


When the Past Resurfaces

by AnnParker



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Glee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnParker/pseuds/AnnParker
Summary: When teens in Ohio are being murdered, the BAU is on the case. Little did Spencer Reid know that he'd come face-to-face with the mother that abandoned him as a kid. And befriend members of New Directions and the Warblers...but can he keep them safe? AU Backstory for Reid and Sue Sylvester. Pre-Klaine.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Standard Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to any of the characters or storylines from Criminal Minds or Glee.
> 
> This story was sparked from 1) watching Glee again on Netflix and falling back in love with Kurt and Blaine and 2) seeing Jane Lynch and Matthew Gray Gubler again as mother and son during this past season of Criminal Minds. A 'what if' scenario popped into my head and wouldn't go away, later growing into this story.
> 
> For CM fans, this probably won't deviate significantly in terms of what we see on the show for the level of drama. For the Glee fans, this is definitely going to be darker than the show ever went (although as a crossover with CM, I'm hoping you'd be expecting that).
> 
> I'd like to thank Gleeful Darren Criss Fan for serving as a beta, general sounding board, and helping to see if the Glee characters seemed correct since its my first time entering the Glee fanfic world (I technically started this before The Glee Holiday, just didn't post).
> 
> If you're still with me, here's the timeline for this story. It takes place in season 2 of Glee, right before/around Never Been Kissed (so we will meet Blaine, but its pre-Klaine). Which puts us in 2010 or in season 6 of Criminal Minds (around Devil's Night). Which pains me, but means no JJ.
> 
> This will be very AU for Spencer Reid's and Sue Sylvester's backstories, but I'm hopeful you'll appreciate the journey I put them both, along with the rest - Kurt and Blaine in particular, through. If you're a fan of both, I hope you'll see the weaving between the two I'm trying for. If you're just a fan of one, I hope there's enough information laid out for you to understand the other show, but please ask if something is unclear.
> 
> And now, finally, on with the story!

Prologue

_1991 - Las Vegas, Nevada_

She just couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't handle a son like this. After growing up with her beloved big sister, Jean, and watching her get bullied, tortured, while they grew up just for being _different_ , she just could not handle watching her son go through the same thing. Jean, or Ethel as Jean nicknamed herself after watching Ethel Merman in 'There's No Business like Show Business,' was the sweetest and wouldn't hurt a fly...or have the ability to stand up for herself. She didn't think Spencer could do that for himself either.

She'd been resistant to William's ideas of putting Spencer in 'normal' activities because she knew how the other kids would treat him. Then there'd been that horrible mess with that man in the park that immediately put her defenses up. Her beautiful, sweet and trusting boy had been willing to play chess with that – that thing – and was none the wiser of what she knew his true intentions were, particularly after what had happened to poor Riley.

The move to a different section of the town had helped for a little while, but now that her ten year old was in high school – high school! – she'd seen how much more reserved he'd become, how he'd taken to wearing sweaters when it was far too warm for that type of clothing. She could sense what was happening, but she was completely at a loss at how to fix it. Making a scene at the school, demanding he get special treatment and protection, would probably make it worse for him. They couldn't afford to send him to a special school either, which was ironic since Cal Tech had already voiced interest in him after he graduated. Couldn't they help _now_?

Was this just some cruel right of passage he needed to go through? How in the world was that fair?

It wasn't. And she just could not sit by and watch it happen. Not after Jean.

She watched him sleep; peacefully unaware of what she was about to do. Even William didn't know about her bags in the car. She sat gently on the side of his bed so not to disturb him, running her hand through his long hair. After a few minutes was watching her beautiful boy sleep, but before the tears could start to fall, she bent down and placed a tender kiss on his forehead.

"Goodbye Spencer. I love you."

* * *

_1995 – Lima, Ohio_

Diana smiled softly as her sister got settled in her new care facility. When she'd committed to leaving behind her life in Vegas, her first priority was finding the best place for her sister because she just couldn't leave her behind. That's where she'd redefine herself; put that past behind her. It had taken a few years, hopping around some, to find the right place. She'd been surprised that a small town in the Midwest would have a great place for her big sister with special needs, but that made her feel better actually. It wasn't a big city with a large university, which was probably where Spencer would try to find her if he looked. She sighed, still a little sad about giving up her career as a professor of literature as well, but it had to be done.

She turned back to the want ads in the paper before her as Jean went to meet some of her new friends. She smiled when she spotted an ad for a cheerleading coach at the local high school. She'd been quite good at gymnastics as a teenager, even winning a state title her senior year. It was an area she thought she could succeed in. But it was in a high school…

Well, she was determined to shape herself into someone new. Maybe at this school she could practice the tough love she couldn't do with Spencer. She'd be hard, cruel, to her students in order to toughen them up for the real world. She'd make them grow thick skins so they could handle anything.

A few days later, when she stepped foot into McKinley High, she had already started to embody this new her. She'd cut her hair short, bought a tracksuit, and strode into the principal's office with her application.

"Hello, you must be…" the principal looked down at the list of applicants. "Sue Sylvester?"

She held in a sigh as she shook the educator's hand, still adjusting to her name. She'd legally changed it last year to her middle and maiden name.

"That's Coach Sue to you."


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Minor Character Death

_Present Day (November 2010) - Quantico, Virginia_

Spencer Reid sighed as he walked into the conference room with his third cup of sugar-laden coffee, running a hand through his shorter than normal hair. He really hoped this headache would go away soon. It was the first time he'd had one last for more than a few hours. He smiled briefly at Emily Prentiss as he took his seat, the others following in shortly after that. He fought off a yawn before taking a sip of his caffeine.

"Late night Pretty Boy?" Derek Morgan grinned at him as he took his seat, leaning back in his signature comfortably confident pose.

Reid rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around his torso in a more defensive position, and quickly came up with a lie. "Got caught up in reading the latest research on graphene since Geim and Novoselov won the Nobel Prize in physics this year. Lost track of time."

"Sounds riveting," Emily smirked as she took the file from Penelope Garcia. The team was still adjusting to the tech doing the case presentations. David Rossi and Aaron 'Hotch' Hotchner both were settled in their chairs by the time the redheaded tech finished passing out files.

"Well, it is the strongest known material but is still flexible, lightweight, transparent, as good of a conductor of electricity as copper, and perhaps is the best known conductor of heat," Reid supplied before catching Hotch's eyes. "...but probably not relevant to the case."

A fleeting smile crossed the unit chief's face at the young genius' attempt to self-censor himself. "Not particularly. We're headed to Ohio." He nodded towards Garcia to start to present the case.

Rossi whistled. "Weren't we just in Iowa and Michigan? Is evil taking a road trip through the Midwest right now?"

Garcia nodded. "Seems like it." She projected images up on the screen. The first one was of a young, blond male with glasses in one photo. His autopsy and crime scene photo projected as well. Chandler Kiehl, sixteen, was killed last week after being stabbed multiple times in the chest and umm, mutilated." She sighed, "Those particular photos are in your files." She let the profilers look at the images for a moment.

"Well that screams something of the sexual nature," Rossi commented first, the rest nodding in agreement. The team quietly reviewed the several cuts to the groin area with their usual detachment even though it made them all inwardly wince.

"If you say so," the tech murmured, still far more sensitive than the rest. As happy as she was to help fill the void left by their blond liaison friend, she was still adjusting to presenting the cases when they were like _this_. "He was a junior at North Lima High where he lived with his mom Nancy and little sister Stacey, who is thirteen. Their father died in a car accident when Chandler was four and Stacey was just one."

"Anything in particular stand out about him?" Morgan asked.

"Well, he's pretty active on social media and although he's never out right posted about it, he's really into fashion, Broadway musicals, and seems to be pretty active on Tumblr shipping certain couples together, so I'm going to take an educated guess that he's gay," Garcia supplied.

"That can't be easy in small town Ohio," Prentiss stated. "My time in St. Louis showed me that's still a part of the country that has a difficult time accepting homosexuality, at least in the smaller areas. The metro areas like St. Louis, Indy and Chicago are better. What's the population of Lima?"

"Just under 40,000," Reid supplied without looking up. When he did, he was met with raised eyebrows and he rolled his eyes, knowing they were expecting him to be more specific just because he could be. "38,771…give or take. It's almost equidistant between Dayton and Toledo."

Morgan shook his head a little at his friend's never ending knowledge. "So 40,000…yep, that says small town to me. Not the boondocks, but still tiny."

Garcia nodded. "Agreed and it seems to fit the bill for what you're concerned about, Em. Although he seemed to delete majority of the comments, there were a few hateful posts sent to him on Twitter in particular that confirm that type of hatred."

"That could very well be part of the issue," Hotch agreed. "We have second victim that was found two days ago."

The redhead nodded again and projected those images as well. "Right. This is Marcus Johnson, fourteen." An image of an African American boy in a blue blazer with a red emblem was on the screen along with his similar crime scene photos. "He is a resident of Kenton, Ohio but attended a private school in Westerville about an hour east and about two hours from Lima. The Dalton Academy."

"Westerville is just smaller with about 36,000," Reid supplied before being asked. He then quickly read over the information Garcia had included about Dalton. "They've got a strict no harassment policy, however, so he probably didn't experience as much as Chandler, at least at school." _I wish I had attended a place like this._ The group nodded in agreement. He looked up and met the team's eyes. "Could it be someone that hadn't been able to act on his impulse while on school grounds?"

"Or the unsub met Marcus off school grounds in the first place," Morgan countered as he continued to look over the file. "Marcus' number of stab wounds are increased."

"He's getting more comfortable, confident," Prentiss added. "Chandler was probably his first kill. The cuts are more shallow, timid."

Hotch sighed. "Let's see if we can stop him before he continues to grow even more bold. Wheels up in 30."

* * *

_Westerville, Ohio_

Blaine Anderson, a normally confident and outgoing sophomore, sat motionless in the Warbler practice room. Not that they were practicing; in fact it was just a few of them even in the room. He couldn't even process _this_ right now, even though they had all actually been told yesterday. It still felt like the headmaster had just told them a few minutes ago. Marcus hadn't been a Warbler, hadn't made the cut this year after his audition. But he was just a freshman and had great potential. He had been friendly with the younger boy, since they had a class together and Marcus had been showing interest in the Dalton Fight Club as well.

"I can't believe this," Nick muttered, wiping his eyes of his tears before running a hand through his black hair.

Blaine nodded. "Me ne-neither," his voice cracked. His own tears started to fall. "He was a sweet guy."

One of the Warblers' head council members, a young Asian teen, sighed and nodded. Eventually Wes spoke, "I really thought he'd make the team next year. He would have made a great Warbler. Do…do you think it would have changed things if he had been on the team this year?" The senior was worried that the counsel's decision to not let Marcus in could have somehow played a role in his death.

Fellow council member, David, shook his head. He was a junior but still viewed as a silent, strong leader in the group. "No…no."

Blaine nodded as he wiped away a tear. "We can't think like that, Wes. It was just some random act of violence." Or was it?

Jeff shook his head. "No it wasn't. Didn't you hear the news? A kid in Lima was killed a week ago just like Marcus." He leaned forward and put a hand on Blaine's arm. "Do you think he was gay too?" he whispered.

Reflecting back to the previous year, Blaine felt a chill run up his spine. He had experienced that kind of hate first hand on that fateful night after his first school dance as a freshman. The event that had sent him to Dalton in the first place. The place that finally let him be himself. Home.

And now that home felt like it was under attack.

Wes frowned, seeing the thoughts rolling through his friends' brains. He knew both Blaine and Jeff had been bullied, and that's why they came to Dalton. Nick had been lucky enough to come from an affluent family who just wanted the best education for him so he'd always been in private school. "We can't know that for sure, but just do us all a favor and don't go anywhere off campus without someone else, okay?" The silent worry about hate crimes being committed around them was clear in Wes' tone and request.

The group all nodded.

"I think we should do an impromptu Warblers performance in honor of Marcus. Something cheerful and fun, like him," David suggested.

That got a smile out of Blaine. "He loved Katy Perry; we bonded a bit over that."

Wes nodded, "Well that settles it. Let's take today off, but I'll message the boys about doing that tomorrow." The group murmured their agreement. "Blaine, song choice?"

The sixteen year old furrowed his brow, debating before settling on one. "Teenage Dream."

* * *

_Lima, Ohio_

Burt Hummel frowned as he watched the news. A second teenage boy had been murdered in the past week. The first was across town, the other a few hours east. The police hadn't released any details other than the FBI had been called in to assist, but he couldn't help but be nervous about Kurt. Finn too, but given how tall the latter was, he somehow doubted he'd be a target. It made me look more intimidating than he really was. Kurt, however, was smaller, and he couldn't help but feel like he was more fragile. He was his little boy after all, even if he was a teenager. He'd still be his little boy when he was the age Burt was now. He was tempted to tell him he couldn't go anywhere but school, but he knew his son. He wouldn't listen to being trapped in the house.

He heard the front door slam shut and he sighed. "Kurt?"

He could hear the teen sigh before joining him in the living room, tossing himself onto the couch. For a kid that was always concerned about his clothing, that gesture seemed out of place. "Hey Dad."

"What's up kiddo?"

His seventeen-year-old son, usually full of life and sass, particularly since he'd joined Glee Club last year, looked a bit dejected as of late. More moody; withdrawn. It reminded Burt of how he acted when he'd gotten that call from the guidance counselor that forced Kurt into Glee in the first place. It made the father's heart ache. He knew his son was happier, comfortable with himself now that he was out, but that had led to a new problem, a longing to find others like him. He couldn't blame him, but it was a tall order given where they lived.

Kurt sent a glance to his father, debating on what to tell him. So many days he wanted to tell him about how bad the bullying was getting; how Dave Karofsky had seemed to go from picking on the whole glee club to just him. How being the only out kid in school had made him a special target for the whole school, and it seemed like everyone else just accepted that was how things should be, even Mr. Schue. He knew he could complain, but would it really accomplish anything? At the same time, he didn't want to alarm his father with his bad heart. He knew his dad would fight for him, just like he did for that solo last year. Yet he worried that stress would hurt him more and he _just_ couldn't do that to his father. He needed him here, even if here was awful right now.

So he went to the other thing that was bothering him. "It's just this week's glee assignment. We're doing guys versus girls again, but doing the opposite gender's typical songs."

Burt furrowed his brow, confused. "Seems right up your alley."

"Yeah, well, the rest of the guys don't really want my opinions right now. Probably ' _too gay_ ,'" he sighed, using air quotes. "I just don't feel all that challenged right now with glee. I'll be alright," he added before his dad could comment. He stood up and patted his dad on the shoulder. "I'll get dinner started." Burt watched as he son disappeared into the kitchen.

Great, now he had another thing to worry about.

* * *

Reid looked around the large, ornate building on the Dalton Academy campus the next day. Weather had delayed the team's flight out. Given how spread out the crime scenes were, they had focused on Lima yesterday. Rossi and Morgan were interviewing Marcus' family in Kenton right now.

This place was just amazing. He noticed the teenagers walking about, talking pleasantly with each other. There was no fear in any of their eyes. Well, except for a few, but he could see it wasn't with regards to their fellow classmates. He suspected seeing their badges and guns and knowing of their fallen classmate was the cause of concern, not bullies roaming the hallways.

He followed Prentiss upstairs to interview some students and teachers. The agents talked to a few different people, getting a good feel for Marcus before being shown his dorm in a different building. They briefly spoke to his roommate before being left alone. Neither noticed the door was still slightly ajar. "It's interesting that he lives on campus when he's not that far from home," Prentiss commented.

"Well, he _is_ only fourteen and it's an hour long commute one way. I'm sure Morgan is asking, but I would assume it was just easier for his family, and him, if he doesn't have to add that drive to his day," Reid murmured as he started to go through the teenager's desk. "Seems to like music."

"Well yeah, didn't you catch that kid Thomas mention Katy Perry, Maroon 5, and Taylor Swift?"

Reid turned and met his friend's eyes. "Are those…bands?"

Prentiss chuckled softly as she turned back to checking the boy's nightstand. "Well Katy and Taylor are solo acts but yes. We really need to get you out more, Reid." She continued to rummage. "Well, hello." She pulled out some condoms and lube. "I think we answered that question."

Reid turned and eyed the items. "At fourteen? Seems a little young. The male average age for losing your virginity is 16.9 years old."

"He hadn't…he just wanted to be prepared."

The agents turned to the sound of a new voice. They took in the young man with gelled, black hair, peering in the room a little. "How are you so sure?" Prentiss countered.

The young man smiled a little, clearly nervous, as he walked into the room and quietly shut the door. "Because he, uh, asked me about it since he wasn't comfortable talking to his parents about sex as a gay teen."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "So Marcus was, in fact, a homosexual? No one else had confirmed this for us."

The young man nodded. "Yes he is…was…Agent…"

Prentiss stepped forward. "Emily Prentiss and Dr. Spencer Reid." She shook the young man's hand as Reid waved. "You are…"

"Blaine Anderson. Marcus and I were friends. We weren't very close, but he came to me about things like that since I'm gay as well and older." His eyes landed on the items Prentiss had just set on the bed. "Not that I've…" He looked down and blushed a little before looking back up. "Haven't exactly met someone yet." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's why he had that. He wasn't dating much, as far as I know, but had wanted to be prepared…just in case. He was usually pretty careful."

Reid nodded. "What else can you tell us about him?"

Blaine smiled a little. "He was really sweet; a bit of a nerd. He liked computers and comic books. He also liked to sing and was bummed when he didn't make it into the Warblers, but I'm pretty sure he would have next year."

"The Warblers?" Reid asked, furrowing his brow.

The agents noticed the teenager's face light up. "Yeah! It's Dalton's a capella glee club. They are pretty popular around campus." He blushed a little. "I'm actually the lead soloist this year."

Prentiss smiled. "Congratulations."

"Thanks." Blaine looked down at his watch. "Oh, shoot, I have to go. We're putting on a performance in the senior commons downstairs in a few minutes in honor of him. One of his favorite songs actually."

The agents nodded. "Well thank you for your information," Reid commented, handing him his card. "If you think of anything else, please give us a call, okay?"

Blaine eyed the FBI embossed card and nodded. "I will." He met their eyes. "Please find who did this."

Prentiss nodded. "We will." She held his gaze. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Blaine bit his lip and nodded, understanding her double meaning. So it likely _did_ have to do with being gay. Great. "I will." He turned and headed down the hall and then the staircase, looking at the card in his hand once more before putting it in his pocket and checking the time on his pocket watch. That's when he heard a voice.

"Excuse me." Blaine turned to see a young man standing there. He wasn't in a uniform, but seemed far too young to be connected to the FBI agents upstairs. "Uh, hi, can I ask you a question? I'm new here."

For a fraction of a second, Blaine wondered if he should be concerned. He could tell the fellow teen wasn't new; he would have had a uniform given to him before he started. He knew he should be a little worried that he had something to do with Marcus, but his eyes…they seemed far too kind and well, stunning, to be anything malicious.

"My name's Blaine," he greeted, offering his hand to shake.

"Kurt," the boy smiled back.

* * *

A few minutes after Blaine left, the agents could tell they had gathered what they could from the school and headed back downstairs. "I would have loved being in a school like this," Reid murmured.

"I was. Well the all girls version anyway. It's not all it's cracked up to be, trust me," she shrugged.

Reid sighed, "Well, their anti-bullying policy certainly seems to be doing wonders. The fact that Blaine could be so open about his sexual orientation…you could tell that it was partly coming from knowing there was no fear with his classmates tormenting him."

Prentiss stopped and met his eyes, the two comments clicking in her mind. Reid was such an old soul in so many ways that she sometimes forgot that he was only twenty-nine and had a very unorthodox upbringing given his genius IQ. She didn't need to be a profiler to know that had been rough growing up, particularly after his mom had left him with his dad when he was ten.

"Spencer…"

Reid shrugged, "Can't erase the past, Emily, and I survived. Obviously, my torture wasn't due to my orientation, but…uh, everything else…" Prentiss frowned, but Reid had ducked his head so he didn't see her gaze. "But, teens have it so much harder now with social media that it is nice to know there are some schools out there where the bullies don't win. I just wish more schools were like this. Then maybe we'd stop having to worry about kids like Owen Savage or Randy Slade."

The brunette nodded as they headed down the hallway to leave, but she stopped when she heard the music. "That must be Blaine and the Warblers now," she smiled. A chuckle escaped when she recognized the song and she nodded down a different hallway. They stood several feet away, observing the teen they had just met singing and smiling with some more boys while others cheered them on.

Reid smiled a little. "They're good. Song is interesting, but their voices blend beautifully."

Prentiss nodded before gesturing for them to go as the group wrapped up. "That's it, I'm making you listen to some Top 40 on the plane ride home, Reid."

* * *

The team reassembled at the Columbus field office later that evening, Chinese takeout containers on the large conference room table. "So we can confirm both teens were gay, but Chandler was far more vocal in his social media presence," Morgan commented.

 _"Right,"_ Garcia commented from the laptop screen. " _Marcus' Facebook page was very private for a teen, pretty much only friends with people he actually seemed to know, and didn't share many posts to the public, just his friends."_

Rossi nodded. "We confirmed from his older sister, Monica, that he was pretty private. He hadn't even come out to his parents yet, although he had to her."

"Was he concerned about their reaction?" Prentiss asked.

Morgan sighed, "Yeah. They are pretty religious. Monica had helped him research Dalton and made the argument for him to go there based on their technology classes, even though it was her way to help him feel freer, to feel like himself."

"That's in line with what another student told us about getting sex education information from him instead of family or the school," Reid added. "And I could see why she'd want him there. The environment at that school certainly seemed more peaceful and less stressful than at North Lima High yesterday."

Prentiss wrinkled her nose, recalling a few students walking past them as they talked with Chandler's friends about the 'fag' getting what he deserved. "Very true. The kids there seemed far more open, although only one out right confirmed Marcus' orientation, but I think that was because it wasn't how he was labeled at the school and that he was more reserved than out of fear."

"So do we really think that's what is the driving force for our unsub?" Morgan questioned. "Because otherwise these two seem pretty different. Different race, schools, family's financial status, activities…"

Reid squinted at the white board with the kids' information. "Not exactly. Chandler was in his school's musicals. Marcus had tried out for Dalton's glee club, but hadn't made the cut."

"So they both like to sing and are gay? That's not a lot to go by," Rossi sighed.

Hotch agreed. "No it's not. We need to dig deeper. Garcia…"

_"I will continue my spelunking through their lives. Chocolate Thunder, you got their laptops right?"_

"Sure did Baby Girl," Morgan answered. "I'll get you remote access. Maybe there's something else hiding in them that will give us more clues."

"In the mean time, how do we protect more gay teens from getting killed?" Rossi questioned.

Hotch frowned. "Garcia, can you get us a list of all the high schools in and around Lima and Westerville, as well as in between, that have some sort of musical arts programs? Get the contact information for the program's directors as well."

The redhead nodded, _"Sure thing Boss Man, but that may be a long list."_

The unit chief sighed. "I know. We'll have to split it up to cover more ground in the morning."

Prentiss raised an eyebrow, "You don't want to just have a press conference?"

Hotch shook his head. "Honestly, I'm worried we'll either cause unnecessary panic or some sort of weird retaliation against gay teens. I'd rather we visit the programs and talk with them ourselves. We might learn something else too that will help with the profile."

"Chances are the teens will be more open with us than they will be with their parents or teachers when they know we're here to protect them," Rossi added in agreement.

"We'll head out first thing in the morning after Garcia has the list." The group nodded. "What else do we know?"

"Well, given that Chandler was likely his first kill and the age of the victims, I wouldn't be surprised if we looking at either another teenager or young adult, maybe as late as early thirties," Morgan commented. "Possibly struggling with his sexual orientation."

Emily nodded. "Well, given what we know about the community, I wouldn't be surprised if he's been trying to suppress that side of him and it's causing a conflict in him. Just like in that case in Miami a few years ago."

Reid sighed. "So a male unsub, age 16-35, likely trying to suppress his homosexuality. Race unclear given he's jumped race lines. Might have some interest in music or has figured out that's a way to find victims."

Hotch frowned. "We need more information."

Rossi was the one to murmur the thought none of them liked to have. "We need another victim."


	3. Chapter 2

Reid looked down at the scrap of paper where he'd written down the name of the glee club director for McKinley High. William Schuester. He'd been fortunate that Mr. Schuester had been pleasant, if just a little confused by the call earlier in the day and had informed him that his glee club had a performance in their choir room today. He was open to Reid talking to the kids afterwards.

He hated that he was by himself for this visit since they were normally in pairs. But given the number of places the team had to try to visit, they were stretched thin even with some help from the locals. He headed into the high school and was immediately hit by bad memories from his own high school experience when he saw some students in letterman jackets walk by. He held his head up high, however, his skin a lot thicker nearly two decades later.

He wandered down the hall, taking in some of the posters up on the school walls. He passed an office full of trophies and rolled his eyes when he noticed the cheerleading figures on top. The coach wasn't in the room, but he could only imagine how conceited she was to surround herself with the trophies instead of having them in a case for the whole school to look at. Turning another corner, he could hear some music and smiled, knowing he'd found his goal. He could see guys sitting with their backs to the doors as the girls performed in front of them. He raised an eyebrow at the leather outfits as he quietly opened the door, slipping in behind the rest.

Silently, he observed the boys. It was difficult given their backs were to him, but he could tell by a few reactions who was straight. He noticed one in the middle with particularly interesting clothing choices – which was something coming from the genius with mismatched socks – look at his phone and smile. Reid moved a little behind him, able to read it even from a distance and his eyes widened when he saw 'Blaine.' Well, he probably didn't need to be a profiler to guess he needed to talk to this young man. Particularly when the message said 'Courage.' He didn't need to run the math to calculate the odds of that being a different Blaine; it certainly wasn't a common name.

His train of thought was broken when the group started to clap for the girls. "Woo! Ladies, very impressive! What made you choose those songs?" The man with a tie on next to the piano asked. Reid could tell that was Mr. Schuester.

"Coach said to give you this," a cheerleader came in the room, handing the teacher a piece of paper. Reid blinked, not expecting to see a cheerleader with Down's Syndrome. Maybe he had misjudged the coach. The young girl kind of reminded him of his Aunt 'Ethel,' even though he hadn't seen her since he was a young child. Not since his mom…

Mr. Schuester seemed to wait for the short brunette to answer his question before standing. "Great job, ladies. That's all for—"

Reid moved from his spot, seemingly unnoticed this whole time. "Mr. Schuester?" The man with curly hair turned to face him, as did the rest, all suddenly taking in his presence. He held up his badge. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI, we spoke on the phone earlier?"

Schuester nodded. "Right." He glanced at the paper and seemed to be debating for a moment. "Class, Dr. Reid here wanted to talk to us for just a few minutes." He gestured for Reid to move in front of the group.

"Um, hi guys," he greeted a little nervously.

"This guy is an FBI agent? I could take him right now," the one with a Mohawk muttered.

"Puck," Schuester warned.

"What? The dude's a stick," Puck defended.

Reid stood a little taller as he found a spot in front of all of them. Some of the girls had pulled chairs over, a few standing or getting the seat from a guy. Although not as confident as Morgan or Hotch, he'd grown significantly during the past few years. He also knew he had to come across as confident, strong, if he was going to get them to open up to him at all. "I'm Dr. Spencer Reid from the BAU, or Behavioral Analysis Unit, of the FBI. I came here today for your help."

He narrowed his eyes at the teen in question who had folded his arms across his chest, protecting himself. First, he apparently needed to put that troubled teen in his place a little. "You're not in trouble, no need to be defensive. Something I suspect you do quite often to keep yourself from getting hurt."

Reid noticed a few snort or bite their lips at that commented. Puck, however, glared at him. "Oh yeah? And what makes you think that?"

"Dude, seriously, chill out," a tall one with a blue sweater commented to his friend. Reid watched the two exchange a glance.

"Well, I could comment on how the way you have your arms is not only a defensive pose, but it's also a way to guard yourself, your heart. You immediately went to physically intimidating comments, suggesting your comfortable with fighting although probably not as much as you let on. But your tone gives away that it's a front, that you're secretly terrified that I'm here to arrest you." Reid raised an eyebrow. "Which makes me wonder if I shouldn't be doing a background check…" He watched Puck's eyes grow wide with fear. "But I won't. Because, like I said, that's not why I'm here." He noticed a few sit up and pay more attention, suggesting he was probably accurate on his brief profile and gained some respect…or at least interest…from the rest.

"So then get on with it, Twiggy," the Latina of the group sassed. "'Cause I gots places to be."

"Santana," Schuester again warned. "Please continue Dr. Reid."

He nodded. "Have any of you seen the news about the two teens that were murdered?"

"So tragic," the short brunette commented. "My Dads told me about it this morning over breakfast. Where were they from again?"

 _Dads?_  Reid filed that piece of information away. They may know more about the gay community in the area. "One went to North Lima, the other went to the Dalton Academy a few hours from here," Reid answered.

"Kurt, isn't that where that gay club was that you went to spy on?" Puck asked.

"Puck, seriously?" the boy Reid assumed was Kurt replied. "Just because it's an all boys school doesn't make them  _all_  gay. Believe me."

Schuester turned to Kurt, "Wait you spied on our competition?  _Again_?"

"Schuester!" the cheerleader burst into the room again. "Now!"

The teacher rolled his eyes. "I've got to go see what Sue wants." He stood up and looked at Kurt. "We'll talk about your spying later." He then turned back to Reid. "You okay on your own, Dr. Reid?"

Reid nodded even though he questioned the educator leaving to see what the cheerleading coach could want given his topic of conversation. Surely this was more important? "Absolutely."

The teacher nodded. "I should hopefully be back in just a few minutes." And with that, he left the profiler with a room of teenagers.

Kurt was the one that spoke up first, "Was the student from Dalton a Warbler?"

Reid shook his head. "No. He tried out and didn't make the team this year. The other student from North Lima was musically inclined as well. That's why I'm here. We haven't found much else in common between the two, so to be safe we're warning all other kids with similar interests to be careful. Don't go anywhere without a friend, be extra cautious of strangers, even if they are about your age."

"Wait you think someone our age did this? Another teenager?" asked the African American female. "Oh hell to the no! That's just  _crazy_."

Reid sighed. "Afraid so."

"There's gotta be something else they have in common," the kid in the wheelchair stated. "They're both guys."

"Probably both on the same team as Lady Hummel," Santana commented.

"Santana," one of the blonds, her hair in waves, scolded. "Kurt's on our team." Reid noticed a few roll their eyes at that statement, but Santana just smiled.

Reid watched as Kurt's eyes fell on his and then down at the ground and he couldn't help but frown. The other blond with a cap on her head reached over and squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "They were gay, weren't they?"

Kurt's eyes snapped back up to the profiler's and Reid could see the fear. He couldn't lie to him; he needed him to protect himself. "They were."

The room fell silent for a minute. "I've got your back, bro," the tall boy commented.

Kurt smiled weakly. "Thanks Finn." Reid watched as Kurt clutched his phone.

"Why don't you all give me a minute alone with Kurt?" The group nodded. "The rest of you, please just be diligent. And," he dug into his messenger bag and pulled out some cards, handing them out. "Please call me if you think of anything or see  _anything_  that is out of the ordinary."

The group of teens murmured their agreement as they took his cards and left the room, a few patting Kurt on the back as they walked out. "I'll wait for you outside, Boo," the African American girl stated to Kurt.

"Thanks Mercedes," Kurt nodded in her direction before she left. Reid took one of the chairs and moved to sit in front of the teenager, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together.

Kurt didn't meet his concerned gaze, however, instead choosing to pick at his sweater. "So I have just  _one_  more thing to worry about," the teen groaned. "I'm already the only out kid in this place, constantly getting bullied. As if being the glee club didn't already put me at the bottom."

Reid sighed. "I know how you feel."

Kurt's water rimmed blue eyes snapped back up to meet Reid's warm chocolate ones. "You're…"

Reid shook his head. "No, I'm straight, but, well as you can see," he gestured to himself, "I'm not a typical FBI agent."

"Well, I've yet to see a government agent with a strong fashion sense," Kurt countered with a small smirk. "Should I even ask about the two different socks?"

Reid chuckled. "That's not what I meant, but okay. The socks are a good luck charm." He paused, thinking about things lately. "Although sometimes I wonder if that's working," he shrugged and then met Kurt's eyes again.

"I graduated high school at twelve, Kurt." The teen's eyes widened. "So trust me, I get the bullying, the torture. Different reason, but same feelings inside. The fear, the anxiety…the physical and emotional pain." Reid looked down a little and sighed before meeting the younger man's eyes again. "I know what you're going through. Although hopefully, for your case, it's not as bad as mine."

Kurt nodded, unable to come up with words to answer him.

"With regards to why I'm here…is there a bully in particular that is targeting you? Is there someone I should be talking to?"

Kurt thought that over. Surely Karofsky wasn't a serial killer; just a giant pain in his ass. As much as he'd love for the jock to be hauled away in handcuffs and be out of his life, he knew nothing would come from it other than probably just more torture for him. Maybe if he just confronted the Neanderthal, it would get easier? Finally, the boy sighed and shook his head. "No, just the usual jocks feeling the need to pick on the little guy to feel better about themselves."

Reid sighed, all too familiar with that. He knew that was the driving reason behind his naked night tied to the goal post. He never did tell his Dad what happened that night; he had been working late on a case and didn't notice he was late getting home. "Just be careful okay? Don't go anywhere without someone, don't meet up with anyone new until we catch this person," Reid stated. Kurt bit his lip, his phone still clutched in his hand. Reid noticed his gaze drift down to look at it. "Who texted you during the performance? Someone from Dalton, perhaps? You seemed concerned about the students from there given that they are competition."

Kurt couldn't stop the hint of blush that crossed his cheeks. "His name is Blaine. He's a Warbler; that's why I asked. He didn't give any hint yesterday that he'd lost a teammate…because I guess he didn't."

"He lost a friend, though," Reid countered. Kurt shot him a confused glance. "I met him yesterday as well. He knew the victim from Dalton." Kurt nodded. "For what it's worth, I don't suspect him of anything." Another nod. Reid handed him a card. " _Please_  call me if you think of anything and keep yourself safe, okay?"

"Thank you," Kurt murmured.

Reid hesitated for a moment, knowing this was out of his comfort zone, but he felt a bit of a kindred spirit with the teen. "And if you ever need to just talk, feel free as well. It does get better, Kurt."

Kurt nodded and then smirked. "Chasing serial killers is getting better?"

Surprising himself, Reid chuckled. "For me, yes. I'm going to take a guess here and assume you'd rather be on a Broadway stage?" Kurt smiled a little more genuinely this time as Reid stood up, nodding his goodbye and headed out the door.

This gave the teen time to compose himself. He worked to push the fear down and focus on the word Blaine had texted him instead. After releasing a deep breath, he sent a quick text to Mercedes that he had to get something from his locker before heading out and would meet her by his car. Then he pulled up that text again, looking at it as he headed out of the choir room.

As Reid headed out into the school hallways, he worked to suppress all the flashbacks of high school that were stirred up when he could see the emotions swirling in that young man's eyes. That night with the goal post. When he foolishly let himself be blindfolded, thinking a girl actually liked him. The shoves into the lockers and the knocking over of his books. He hadn't had a flare up of those emotions from high school this intense since the Owen Savage case a few years ago and he knew he couldn't go off script like he did then or Hotch would actually fire him this time. He just hated how cruel people – teens in particular – were to those that were  _different_. And how  _indifferent_  those in charge seemed to be to stop the brutality.

Swallowing thickly, he reached into his pocket to squeeze tightly around his one year medallion, the cool metal calming him down some. He could tell he was probably going to need to stop by a meeting when this case was done, but hopefully nothing drastic would happen in the meantime to stress him any further.

He was so focused on getting out of the school that he missed the tall, blond woman in a blue tracksuit walking back into that office he'd passed earlier.

She didn't miss him however.

* * *

Morgan walked out of his meeting with Vocal Adrenaline and their coach, Dustin Goolsby, and headed to the waiting SUV at Carmel High. That dude was a jackass, that much he knew. Kind of reminded him of that pick up artist Prentiss had to deal with a few years ago. Chuckling to himself, he made note to remind his brunette friend of that. There had seemed like there were a few kids that might fit the victim profile, but he'd only been allowed a few minutes to talk with them before Goolsby made them resume rehearsal. He was seriously contemplating talking with the principal or school board after seeing a few minutes of their work. He worried it wasn't safe for those kids; it seemed  _way_  more intense than his high school football days.

That girl Sunshine could sing, though…

His phone rang and he smiled when he saw the name pop up. Speaking of sunshine…

"Hey Baby Girl, tell me something good."

Garcia sighed,  _"I wish I could, Sugar, but we've got another body. Hotch is on his way but said you're the closest to the scene. I just sent you the address."_

Morgan frowned as he slid into the driver's seat. "Okay, thanks."

* * *

Kurt stood frozen in the locker room, in shock.

What. Had. Just.  _Happened_?

Did Karofsky really just  _kiss_  him?  _That's_  what his torture had been about? Dave was fighting himself, trying to come to terms with being gay himself, and was taking it out on him? Did that bully – a confused and scared bully, but bully nonetheless – just steal his first real kiss with a boy from him?

Slowly, he felt himself fall to his knees as he tried to take deep breaths and process the last few minutes.

Only when he heard some other jocks starting to enter the locker room did he snap out of his haze and bolt from the room, not wanting them to inflict pain as well. He made it down the hallway, somehow remembering to pick up his bag  _and_  cell phone. His phone chimed and he shakily glanced at the text alert from a few minutes ago.

' _You alright Boo?'_

Kurt let out a ragged breath and forced himself to swallow the bile trying to rise in his throat. He quickly made his way out the door, his history book in his locker forgotten. He plastered a fake smile on his face when Mercedes spotted him in the parking lot and shoved his phone in his pocket, making a promise to himself to not breakdown until he got home. Maybe call Blaine?

His fingers hit the business card in his pocket. Or should he call that agent? Was Dave really a threat after all?

He swallowed more bile as he reached his car. "Sorry that took so long."

His friend smiled and nodded, squeezing his arm. "No worries. Are you okay? What that agent was talking about was pretty scary."

Kurt nodded again, now back to autopilot mode. "Yeah, I'm okay."

_I'm petrified._

* * *

Sue strutted to her office after showering Will in confetti, feeling great. Or at least, giving off that impression. She'd broken another person that was different, unique, just so she could get her way. It pained her to think back of who she used to be, which was why she chose not to think about it. Gone was that kind-hearted woman with a lovely, although imperfect husband, and gifted son. After fifteen years as the terrorizing cheerleading coach, she only knew of herself as the woman that struck the fear into the hearts of every teenager that she passed in these halls.

She knew she was cruel, but she also looked at it as a service. She was making these kids tougher, stronger. If they could handle her wrath then they could handle the real sharks out in the real world after graduation. It was one of the reasons she tormented the glee club so much. That band of misfits all had qualities that made them special and if she didn't spew her hate on them they would just get eaten alive after they left Lima.

It didn't help that she saw so many flashes of what she was sure Spencer was like in all of them. Frankenteen and Porcelain in particular. Hudson seemed to find a way to always see the good in people. It was her only explanation for how he had forgiven Puck and Quinn  _and_  how he found himself attracted to Berry. Hummel showed an inner strength and fighter spirit she'd seen in her son but both were also gentle, not as likely to fight back unless pressed, although the younger one did use his sass a hell of a lot more than she knew Spencer would.

She rounded the corner to head into her office when she saw a tall, thin figure rush pass and a few things immediately caught her eye. The messenger bag over his shoulder, the gun on his hip, and the watch on the outside of his sweater.

She froze as he continued past her, not meeting her eyes, which to her was a miracle.

Blinking rapidly, she turned as watched as he took a turn, clearly headed to the exit.

Her heart jumped in her chest, knowing that walk from anywhere. Even if it had been nearly two decades since she'd last seen it.

 _What_  was her  _son_  doing here? And why was he wearing a  _gun_?

* * *

Morgan sighed as he studied the body before him. Deeper stab wounds, increased mutilation to the groin area. Clearly an escalation, although not unexpected. The cuts to the face, making facial recognition unlikely, were new  _and_  surprising however. All he could really make out was that the victim was a white male, brunette, and had a small but muscular build. Dancer or swimmer most likely.

"What do you have?" Hotch asked, appearing at his side. Morgan lifted the sheet again and showed him, hearing his boss make a similar sound as he did a few minutes ago. "Face mutilation is a change in the MO."

"Yep. Wonder if he saw himself in the victim? Either that or knew he could be tied to this one easier than the others."

Hotch nodded in agreement. "Have the techs already taken fingerprints?"

"Already sent to Garcia to run, but I'm not expecting a match. We'll likely have to wait on dentals and given our timeline escalation, I'm not liking our odds," Morgan stated, frustration clear in his voice as he stood up.

Hotch met his eyes. "Me neither."


	4. Chapter 3

Sue was quick to get herself home after she was able to move from her spot in the hallway. She couldn’t believe her son had just walked past her in the hallways of McKinley High. How is that even possible? And why was he wearing a gun?

When she severed herself from that life, she’d purposely had kept herself from looking into what he was up to; she knew the temptation would be too great to go back to him depending on what she found out. So, she supposed it was entirely possible that wasn’t Spencer at all since she didn’t know what he looked like as an adult.

Yet…

She _knew_ it was him. He carried a messenger bag as a kid, liking to use her bag instead of a regular book bag like the rest of the kids. He also always wore his watch on the outside of his sweaters, which she knew wasn’t common practice. Plus that walk…

There was no mistaking it, her son was here. Had he found her? Did he decide he didn’t want to see her after he got there? She certainly hoped so. She couldn’t be what he wanted – what he _deserved_ – anymore so why mess with what she had going in her life now?

Would he be back?

She sank into her couch and put her head in her hands, suppressing tears.

Did she _want_ him to be back?

* * *

Blaine sat in his room, studying, or at least attempting to study. He was trying to wrap his brain around the past few days. First, he finds out Marcus is murdered. Not only that, but the agents seemed to at least imply that gay teens were being targeted, putting a huge target on his back now that he was finally comfortable enough in his skin to be out and proud.

Then he meets Kurt from McKinley. As soon as the teen had tried to bolt after he’d basically serenaded ‘Teenage Dream’ to him, he knew he hadn’t come to Dalton to check out the school as a possible transfer. But there had also been something in his eyes that made him wonder so he’d chased after him and invited him for coffee with Wes and David. He was glad he had agreed, just asking to use the restroom first. It had taken Blaine a moment to recover when the fellow teen came back out in a different outfit, stating it was clear he didn’t need to try to blend in anymore.

He’d seen something in those piercing grey-blue eyes that had made him pry further, getting the truth out. Yes, he’d spied for the glee club, but he was also just trying to find someone like him. Someone gay. Someone going through the same pain. It made his heart ache for Kurt, which was why he’d given him that advice…and his number. He’d found Kurt attractive as well, but could tell that wasn’t what he needed right now. He needed a friend, a support system that he didn’t seem to have at his school.

Yet as he thought over his words, he was worried he’d said the wrong thing given what else was going on right now. He hadn’t pushed him to confront someone that was a _real_ threat, did he? A murderer?

His ringing phone broke his musings. He wasn’t sure what to make of the name flashing on his screen. “Hey Kurt.”

_“Hi.”_

Blaine closed his eyes, frowning. The tone said it all. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

A heavy sigh came across the line. _“He…I…it…”_

Now Blaine was really concerned. “Kurt? Did he hurt you?”

_“He kissed me.”_

The Dalton student blinked a few time, rapidly. That was not the answer he was expecting. “Wow, okay.”

_“Yeah.”_ Kurt’s voice was small.

“Well that explains why he’s targeted you, I suppose. Still don’t excuse his behavior.” A soft hum was his reply. “Do you want me to talk with him? See if we can’t help him come to terms with things?”

He could hear the soft intake of air through the line. _“You’d do that?”_

Blaine smiled at the hope in his voice. Yep, what Kurt really needed was a friend right now. “Of course. I can skip tomorrow, I don’t have anything pressing in class and we don’t have practice either.”

A sigh of relief came through the phone. _“Thanks Blaine, really.”_

Blaine fought down the warm feeling in his chest when Kurt said his name. “You’re welcome. Now, how are _you_ doing?”

When he heard another sigh, Blaine knew he’d made the right call to come out and support his new friend. He also completely forgot about the agents' advice about not going anywhere alone.

* * *

Reid studied the new crime scene photos while they waited on the full autopsy report and identification. “I think Morgan’s right.”

“ _Please_ say that again,” Morgan grinned, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m not sure I’ve heard that before and I _really_ like it.”

Emily walked up behind him and gently slapped the back of his head. “Like you need your ego stroked.”

Hotch glared at the two of them before turning back to Reid. “What do you mean?”

“I think he sees himself in this victim and that’s why he’s mutilated the face,” Reid answered. Hotch nodded, silently asking him to elaborate. “Chandler was blond and a slighter build, Marcus was African American but a little more muscular. This victim is Caucasian like Chandler, but brunette and more muscular like Marcus.”

Rossi nodded in agreement. “So assuming this latest victim is similar like the others in orientation, perhaps our unsub is trying to come to terms with his sexuality.”

“Probably been raised thinking homosexuality is a sin and that conflict inside him is what led to this,” Emily stated, waving at the crime scene photos.

Morgan sighed. “Great, so how do we find someone deep in the closet in small town Ohio?” Garcia called, breaking the silence in the room as the profilers thought over Morgan’s question. He put her on speaker. “Tell me you got something, Baby Girl.”

_“Your latest victim is Travis Carter, eighteen. Graduate of Carmel High this past May,”_ she started to answer.

“Tell me he was a member of Vocal Adrenaline,” Morgan just about begged.

Garcia chuckled at the eagerness in his tone. _“What will you give me if he was?”_

“Oh I’m sure I can come up with something,” Morgan flirted back.

“Garcia,” Hotch asked, making his agents focus.

_“Sorry Boss Man. And to answer the question, yes, Travis was part of the National Champion Vocal Adrenaline show choir for the past four years. He was currently trying to make a go of it with a local band, forgoing college this fall per his social media pages.”_ She paused for just a second, _“And before you even ask, yes he was also gay. Photos and posts on his Facebook confirm a breakup about three months ago with his boyfriend of two years when said boyfriend moved away to Florida for college.”_

The profilers looked around. “Looks like we have a profile,” Rossi stated.

Hotch nodded in agreement. “Let’s deliver it to the field agents here and then we need to go back out and talk with any of the teens we met that fit the victimology along with the friends and family of the victims again to see if there is some other overlap we’re missing.”

* * *

Reid and Emily made their way into the Humanities building of Dalton Academy the following morning, following the headmaster to one of the classrooms.

“Wesley,” the older, balding man greeted in the doorway of the classroom. The agents noticed an Asian boy look in their direction, confusion on his face. “Please come with me for a moment.” The head of the Academy seemed to see the concern on the teenager’s face. “You’re not in trouble.”

Wes nodded and followed him out into the hallway. “What’s going on Sir?”

Emily took the lead. “I’m Agent Prentiss and this is Dr. Reid from the FBI. We were here a few days ago talking to some of your classmates about Marcus Johnson.” Wes nodded in understanding. “We have some follow up questions that we’d like to talk to you and your fellow…”

“Warblers,” Reid supplied, remembering their glee club name. “Dr. Parsons noted you’re the head of the council and could assemble them quickly for us.”

Wes smiled a little at the comment about his leadership role. “I can send a text and get them all gathered quite quickly,” he paused, looking at his headmaster, “assuming they can leave class.”

Dr. Parsons nodded, “That’s fine. I have the roster and can verify from the teachers. I’ll alert the staff right now while you assemble them.” Wes nodded and pulled out his cell phone to send a text. “How long will you need them?” he asked the agents.

Emily again took the lead. “Not long, an hour at the absolute most. We may end up only needing a few to talk in more detail with as it is and will send others back to class as we finish.”

“Very well,” Dr. Parsons nodded. “Wesley, please show them to the senior commons. I’m assuming that’s where you’re assembling.”

Wes nodded. “Yes Sir.” He turned back to the agents. “Let me just grab my things and we’ll head to the dorm.” The headmaster left the agents alone for a moment before the teen returned. The group quickly headed out of the building. “So does Marcus’ death have something to do with singing?”

“We’d rather discuss it with all of you at once, but it appears that is a connection,” Reid answered.

Wes nodded, frowning. They had a longer walk than some so by the time they reached the room, almost the whole group as assembled. Wes looked at David. “Who’s missing?”

“Just Trent and—” A boy with a fuller face came rushing into the room and David nodded at him. “Okay, make that just Blaine.”

Wes frowned. “That’s not like him to be late and his class is closer.” Reid and Emily exchanged a look at that. “In fact…” The senior turned to a few other Warblers. “Jeff, don’t you have second period with Blaine? Where is he?” Just then, Wes’ phone rang. “Never mind, that’s him.” He answered his phone. “Blaine where are you? The FBI wants to talk to us.”

_“Um, I’m on my way to Lima to meet Kurt.”_

“You’re _what_?” Wes turned around suddenly, out of the room. Reid looked at Emily before he chose to follow the dark haired boy. “Didn’t I tell you not to go anywhere without someone else right now? And to Lima, Blaine? Seriously?”

Blaine sighed, _“I know, I’m sorry. He just really needs help with something right now. I promise I’m only going to the school…”_ He trailed off for a moment, Wes’ words sinking in. _“Wait, why does the FBI want to talk to us?”_

Wes sighed and looked at the agent with him, gesturing to the phone. Reid bit his lip for a moment before taking it. “Blaine? This is Dr. Reid. You wouldn’t be going to McKinley High to meet with Kurt Hummel, would you?”

Blaine blinked a few times, glad his phone was hands-free right now or he would have likely dropped it. _“Um, yes? You know Kurt? Is he a suspect or something?”_

Reid smiled a little. “No. Sadly, it’s possible he’s a potential target and so are you. How close are you right now?”

_“I’ve got over an hour left to Lima. Do you want me to turn around?”_

Reid sighed. “No. Go do what you need to do, but be safe about it. Make sure you are always with other people and if anything feels off, please call me or 911. Don't take any chances. Then I want you to stay with him until my partner and I get there. We’ll talk to you both at the same time. We can escort you back to Dalton afterwards. We’ll be about an hour behind you since we still need to talk to your classmates. Again, stay in public places and stay together, okay?”

_“Yes sir. I still have your card, but you can get my number from Wes.”_

“Okay. See you both soon.” He hung up and Wes quickly jotted down the phone number for him before they joined the rest. Emily was already going through what they wanted to talk about.

“…we realize this is a delicate topic and some of you may not even be sure where your orientation lies, which is why we’re talking to all of you. If some of you choose to talk to us in more detail afterwards, that’s great.”

“So what are you wanting from us? Marcus wasn’t even a Warbler,” Thad asked, confused.

“But he had tried out,” Reid countered. “From what we can tell, our unsub—”

“Your what?” asked Jeff.

Reid opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Nick. “It’s shorthand for unknown subject. It’s a term used for the subject of a criminal investigation when their identity isn’t already known, or in this case the killer.”

Emily and Reid exchanged a quick glance before the senior agent raised an eyebrow at the teen. “Impressive.”

Nick shrugged, “My dad is a criminal defense attorney.”

Reid nodded, taking the conversation over again. “Our unsub, or killer, seems to be wrestling with his sexual orientation and is targeting victims that either remind him of someone he likes or, more likely, himself. Music in some form seems to be a common interest among the victims, which is what brings us to you all. Now, as in the case of Marcus, he was musically inclined even if he wasn’t a part of your group yet so we need your help to reach out to others that might be at risk.”

The boys nodded, Wes taking back over. “What do you want from us, specifically?”

“Have any of you noticed others paying unwanted attention to Marcus or any of you?” The group all shook their heads. “Do any of you know places Marcus might like to frequent outside of Dalton? Or are there hangouts some of you like to go to?”

Nick piped up again, “We sometimes go to karaoke night at a local pub that let’s underage people in for a few hours. I think Marcus went with a few of us a few weeks ago.”

“There’s also a music store called Between the Sheets I went to with him and Blaine once,” David answered. “Blaine was looking for something specific so we made the trip out there and Marcus tagged along since he loved Katy Perry just like Blaine.”

Reid and Emily exchanged a glance. They really needed to talk to Blaine. “Okay, that’s helpful,” she answered. They continued to ask a few more questions, getting some but not much useful information out of the teenage boys. Finally, Emily let them leave with a few that stayed back.

“Where’s Blaine?” David questioned Wes.

Wes sighed. “He went to help Kurt with something.”

David’s eyes went wide. “Now? During all of _this_?” The profilers exchanged a look as they watched the interaction between friends. “You think it had to do with why Kurt got upset?”

Reid narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?” The teens exchanged a glance. “This might help protect Kurt and given what’s going on, possibly Blaine too.”

Wes sighed. “We don’t know much. Just that Kurt came out here under the pretense to spy on the Warblers, but then asked if we were all gay. When we told him about the zero tolerance harassment policy, he got teary eyed and Blaine asked to talk to him alone.”

David nodded. “We’re assuming he’s being bullied pretty badly at his school. Blaine neither confirmed nor denied that when we asked that night, he just stated that Kurt needed a friend who understood right now. Since we know that’s why Blaine came to Dalton last winter, we put two and two together.”

Emily looked at Reid as he frowned, the latter filing that comment about Blaine’s past away for now. Winter implied a mid semester transfer, which was usually rare in the private school world. The confidence from the teen wouldn’t have initially screamed a bad past like he could easily read on Kurt’s face. “Didn’t you talk to this Kurt yesterday?”

Reid ran a hand through his short hair. “Yes. We didn’t get into specifics, but that lines up with things. Doesn’t explain why Blaine went to Lima today however.” He turned to the students. “Thank you for your help. We’ll get Blaine back here safe, okay?”

The teens nodded as Emily added to that. “Remember to watch each other’s backs and keep an eye out for anyone out of place or anyone that seems on edge, withdrawn, seems likely to become violent. They won’t be able to contain this behavior well.”

Both of the teens swallowed, thinking about Nick, Jeff and a few other friends they needed to keep an eye on besides Blaine. David was the one that spoke. “We will.” With that the agents nodded and headed out to Lima.

* * *

Blaine found Kurt biting his lip while he waited by the staircase near the outside courtyard. He looked so nervous and a little broken and it made the private school boy’s heart clench in pain. He had been questioning his advice to confront the bully ever since that call last night and the fear and sadness he’d heard in Kurt’s voice. Even with a killer on the loose, it had been a no brainer for him to come help out. He felt partly responsible anyway.

“Hey Kurt,” he greeted, sending the other boy a warm smile of confidence. Even if he wasn’t sure that’s what he felt.

Soft baby blue eyes, that were even brighter when paired with the similar colored coat today, met his. “Hey. Thanks again for coming.” Kurt gestured to the stairs, knowing Karofsky’s schedule a little. He had to for his own safety.

“Don’t worry about it. Just let me do the talking,” Blaine stated.

Kurt nodded and his gaze went up, spotting his terrorizer. “There he is.”

Blaine registered the tall, heavier teen and hid his flash of concern. No wonder Kurt was worried. _Thank god for fight club._ “I got your back.” He took a breath and then made sure to stand tall as they rounded the corner to be face to face with the bully. Confused teen? “Excuse me.”

Blaine felt the annoyance in waves from the bigger boy. Or was it fear? “Hey lady boys. This your boyfriend, Kurt?”

_Was that jealousy?_ Blaine saw the annoyance on Kurt’s face at the words; he clearly didn’t register it the same way Blaine had. “Kurt and I would like to talk to you about something.”

“I gotta go to class,” Karofsky pushed past them.

“Kurt told me what you did,” Blaine tried again.

That got the other boy’s attention and he turned around. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Kurt sighed. “You _kissed_ me.”

Blaine easily saw the fear flash in Karofsky’s eyes at that as he looked around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He wanted to help him come to terms with things. For both his and Kurt’s sakes. “It seems like you might be a little confused, and that’s totally normal.” He followed him around the staircase some. “This is a very hard thing to come to terms with and you should just know that you’re not alone.”

“Do _not_ mess with me!” To say that he was surprised when Karofsky charged at him and pushed him up against the fence would have been a lie. He quickly threw his hands up in a manner to show he wasn’t going to fight him. Even though he _could_.

He was impressed with Kurt, however, when he pushed Karofsky back. “You have to stop this!” They watched as the different emotions flashed over the larger boy’s face before he ran off.

Blaine tried to lighten up the situation. “Well, he’s not coming out anytime soon.” Then he watched as Kurt seemed to wilt, dropping his messenger bag down and sitting on a step. “What’s going on?” He took a seat next to Kurt as the other took a moment to answer. “Why are you so upset?” This seemed to be weighing even heavier on his new acquaintance – friend? – than he originally thought.

Kurt sighed, “Because up until yesterday, I had never been kissed. At least, one that counted.”

Blaine sighed. He didn’t know what to say to that right now, but he knew he needed to try to cheer Kurt up somehow. “Come on. Let me buy you lunch.”

It was only once they were in his car that he remembered his phone call from Wes. Should Kurt – and now him – be worried about Karofsky in a much more sinister way?

* * *

Reid raised his eyebrow at the restaurant Prentiss pulled up to in Lima after he’d read a text from Blaine. He wasn’t sure how to feel about meeting two possible targets – minors – off school grounds. Then again, maybe school wasn’t the safest place to be for at least Kurt right now. He sighed as they headed in. He should have pushed harder yesterday; he could see the misery in the teen’s eyes and his posture. What had happened that pushed Blaine to drive two hours away to help him?

He noticed Blaine spot them immediately when they entered; Kurt’s back to them. They both tried to offer him a small, reassuring smile. As they got closer, the teen had kept his eyes on them, which finally caused Kurt to turn. Reid immediately noticed the fear and then anger flash in his eyes.

“You called the _FBI_?” he turned back to Blaine, almost hissing at the fellow teen.

Reid was quick to hasten his pace, registering the flash of sadness on sixteen year old’s face. “We were coming to talk to you already, Kurt. Both of you. He just told us where to find you.”

The paler teen sent him a skeptical look, but slid over in his booth bench. Blaine was quick to get up and slid over to join him so the agents could take the other side, Reid letting Prentiss go in first. “Why _do_ you need to talk to us…again?” Blaine asked.

“Have either of you noticed anyone watching you? Paying you unwanted attention while you’re out and about?” Prentiss asked. “Maybe at a coffee shop or somewhere that would highlight your singing abilities or overall interest in music?”

Reid kept an eye on Kurt as he continued. “David mentioned you went to a store with Marcus a few weeks ago, Blaine. Called Between the Sheets?"

Blaine nodded, “Yeah. The store in Westerville didn’t have what I was looking for. Marcus tagged along.”

“Did you notice anything? Feel anything different? Talk to anyone new?” Emily pressed.

Blaine seemed to think that over. He tended to get tunnel vision when it came to music and the Warblers. He was pretty sure he just talked with David and Marcus and the store clerk who was a woman. “I don’t think so.”

Reid looked at Kurt. “How about you?”

“I go there too. Usually with Mercedes or Tina, but I haven’t been for weeks.” He looked down at the table. “Haven’t felt the need,” he sighed. He wasn’t lying when he confronted Mr. Schue about not feeling challenged in glee anymore, but he’d also not had the urge to put himself out there lately given everything with Karofsky.

Blaine frowned and patted his shoulder. “You can’t let him get to you this way, Kurt.”

“Who?”

Kurt’s head shot up at the question from the female agent. “No one.”

“Kurt…” “Kurt…”

Blaine and Reid exchanged a glance as they voiced concern for the other male at the table at the same time. “Maybe you should tell them,” Blaine commented.

Kurt’s eyes met his and Blaine frowned at the anger being shot at him for the second time. Only it was overridden by the fear also shining through. “What good will that do? He’s not a murderer, he’s just a confused bully.”

The agents both exchanged a look. “I need a name, Kurt.”

The teen turned, surprised by the firm tone from Dr. Reid. He had been far more gentle and nice yesterday. Why the change today? “He’s not your crazy and hauling him into the police station will just make my life harder,” he countered. He looked down again, sighing. “And I don’t think I can take much more.”

“Then let us help you,” Prentiss stated.

“You can’t!” Kurt snapped. He started to push on Blaine. “I need to go!”

Blaine moved, reluctantly. “Kurt…we’re just trying to help.”

“Well don’t!” Kurt shouted, tears threatening. He actually wanted help, but he was so scared they would just make things worse. Clearly having Blaine confront Karofsky hadn’t done anything. He started to leave, not noticing Blaine trying to go after him, but being held back. He pushed his way out of the restaurant and then realized he’d let Blaine drive. He knew he was not going back to school today. Maybe he’d just walk home for now…

“Kurt, wait.”

He spun on his heel and faced the taller man. “You claim it was worse for you. Do you really think getting the authorities involved would’ve made a difference? Would it have really helped when they were calling you a nerd, four eyes, a baby?” He took a stab at the names thrown at a genius kid.

Reid sighed. “When I was in your shoes, no I didn’t think it would help. Looking back on it now, yes. And it was a lot more than name calling.”

“Oh yeah?” Kurt started to pace. “Was it worse than slushies being thrown in your face constantly so you have to pack spare clothes all the time? Getting tossed into dumpsters? Was it body checks into the lockers, leaving your back covered in bruises? Or was it some giant oppressor using you to try to figure out if he’s gay or not by kissing you? Tell me, _Doctor_ , was it worse than that?”

“I was lured out to the football field by a girl and ambushed by the whole team who stripped me naked and tied me to a goal post. They then taunted and laughed at me and threw things at me, including some punches and kicks, until they got bored and left me there. It was nearly midnight by the time I freed myself and walked home.”

Reid sighed, surprising himself with how quickly that story stumbled out of him. Why was he sharing so much with this kid?

_Because you see a part of yourself in him?_

Kurt blinked, trying to process that. Okay, so… “Your parents?” How could they have not noticed how late it was when he got home? He knew his dad would have been furious and then concerned if he'd come home that late.

“My mom had left us the year before that and my dad was constantly putting in extra hours at the firm to support us. He was working late and didn’t even notice I was home late.”

Okay, so that was…something…alright. Kurt wiped away the angry and scared tears from his eyes and sighed, sitting on the curb outside of Breadstix. “And you wish you’d told him? Gone to the cops?”

Reid sat next to him, the teen not noticing the slight wince for his one knee given the cold weather they were sitting in. “I do. I know the principal would have probably just said something like ‘dealing with bullies is part of growing up’ but they crossed a line with what they did to me and should have faced the consequences. Instead, I just cowered even more until I could get out of there.” He paused for a moment and let that sink in. “What _exactly_ happened, Kurt?” He hadn’t missed the kissing comment, but needed more details.

Kurt sighed again, turning to meet Reid’s concerned gaze. “There’s one bully in particular that’s been behind the slushies and locker shoving lately. I listened to Blaine yesterday after you left and decided to call him out on it and he kissed me. He stole my first kiss.”

Reid frowned. “He assaulted you Kurt. Just because it was with his lips, doesn’t make it any better or less of an attack than if he’d hit you with his fist.”

Kurt turned away from him and he thought that over. Maybe that made it a little…better didn’t seem like the right word, but at least he could not consider it his first kiss?

“This bully sounds like he’s confused by his sexual orientation.”

Kurt nodded. “That’s why I can’t tell you his name. I won’t out him.”

Reid sighed. “Our killer took another victim’s life last night and we believe it’s someone that is struggling to accept their sexuality. I need the name, Kurt. I need to be able to rule him out as a suspect.”

Kurt shook his head. “He wouldn’t.”

“Does he make you fearful? Scared for your life? Does he seem to suddenly lash out when barely provoked, such as just seeing you in the hallway?”

His voice came out as a whisper. “Yes.”

“Then how can you be so sure?”

Kurt frowned and looked at Reid again.

“Dave Karofsky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update. I'm struggling a bit with my writing mojo and I'd really love some feedback to keep me motivated to keep this story going. Thoughts on character depiction, the case, and anything in between are welcome! Thanks!


	5. Chapter 4

" _Boy Wonder! What can I do for you?"_

Reid smiled just a fraction at his friend's greeting as he turned to watch Kurt and Blaine interact in the restaurant. The teen had gone back inside while the nearly thirty-year-old agent called for background information on the possible suspect. He watched as the prep school boy patted the other on the shoulder in a gesture of support.

"I have a possible suspect I need you to run background on. David Karofsky, seventeen, attends McKinley High School," Reid answered. He noticed Emily look over at him from the booth with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged, unable to give her an answer at the time. She nodded and looked back the boys, asking more questions and hopefully being reassuring.

" _Got it, my baby genius, I'll get you the lowdown in five…four…three…"_ she paused. _"Want me to get Hotch on the line?"_

"Sure."

_"Hotchner. Have something Garcia?"_

_"Not me, Reid."_

"I'm not sure I do either, Hotch, but there's a junior at McKinley that fits the basics of the profile so Garcia is running his name now."

_"Yes, I'm combing my databases as we speak and what I can tell you is that he's on the football team as the right guard, gets good grades although that does seem to be dropping this quarter. His parents belong to St. Mark's Catholic Church, and his father, Paul, is even a Deacon. He seems pretty popular in the school per his Facebook page, but nothing screams 'gay' from his page."_

"As it wouldn't, he's very deep in the closet," Reid supplied.

_"What's the story Reid?"_ Hotch pushed.

The younger agent sighed. "He's been bullying the one out kid, Kurt Hummel, at his school and yesterday Kurt confronted him about it and Karofsky forcibly kissed him."

_"Oh that poor kid,"_ Garcia sighed as she continued to type away. _"I also see nothing musical other than the occasional band he likes. Nothing that shows he likes to sing or dance though."_

"Kurt's in the glee club and I get the impression that all of them a tortured by the jocks and cheerleaders there. It's just escalated between Karofsky and Kurt lately," Reid supplied.

_"Well it still sounds plausible,"_ Hotch answered. _"We should bring him and his parents in for questioning unless Garcia can supply an alibi before that."_

_"Will do some digging and with how kids tend to post about their lives I wouldn't be surprised if I find something…or a complete lack of something,"_ the redhead answered. _"I'll hit you up when I've got something!"_

_"Reid, take Prentiss back to the school and pick him up,"_ Hotch continued.

Reid sighed. "Hotch…"

" _Reid?"_

"Two things. First off, we've got a student that came from Westerville to help Kurt and I told his friends at Dalton we'd make sure he got back there safe."

" _Okay…"_

"And secondly, I'm not sure about involving Karofsky's parents, at least not initially. If he isn't our unsub, we'd be outing him to his parents and given his mental state…" He thought back to Kurt's comment moments before and he knew far too many statistics about what could happen if they did that.

Hotch sighed. _"Okay. Have Prentiss escort the Dalton student back, and you can stay with Hummel at McKinley until you know he's safe. I'll send Morgan to meet you there. See if you can talk to Karofsky and get a feel for if we need to take him seriously as a suspect."_

"Thank you."

* * *

"Are you sure you're fine?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. He appreciated the agent's concern but… "I'm going to glee rehearsal for our number tomorrow. I'll be fine with my friends."

Reid nodded as they crossed the parking lot of the high school. "Okay." He stopped walking for a second, getting Kurt to pause and turn. "Don't go anywhere without someone else, alright? That group seemed to care about you, let them help." Kurt nodded, looking down again. "And when this is all over, I want to talk more about the other bullying you mentioned. Something needs to be done and I intend to talk with your principal about it."

Kurt blinked, surprised. "Thank you." He was skeptical it would make a difference, but he appreciated the effort. It was just nice to have an adult outside of his dad that seemed to actually care about what was happening _and_ be willing to do something about it. Maybe he could help implement a zero tolerance policy like Dalton?

Reid nodded as they continued to cross the chilly lot.

"There you are Kid."

Kurt looked up as he saw another man walking towards them. He couldn't help but blush a little as he took in the dark skinned man with chiseled features, particularly when he smiled at him. Normally someone that was clearly a jock in high school would have intimidated him, but he seemed friendly.

"Really Morgan? You can't greet me normally given that I'm not alone?" Reid rolled his eyes. Kurt bit his lip to keep from smiling at the whine in Reid's voice.

"Hey, I could have called y—"

"Kurt, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan. Morgan, this is Kurt Hummel, a junior here at McKinley," Reid interrupted, knowing full well what nickname was going to slip out of Morgan's mouth. He didn't add other details about how he knew the teen, but assumed Hotch had filled him in.

Morgan offered Kurt his hand to shake, which the teen did. "Nice to meet you, Kurt. Not the best circumstances, obviously, but…"

Kurt ducked his head a little. "You too." He turned to Reid. "Are you both talking to him?" he asked softly.

Reid nodded. "Yeah. It'll be okay. Why don't you head to your practice?" Kurt nodded and waved as he quickly headed into the school as other students started to leave.

Morgan eyed his friend. "He's gotten to you, hasn't he?"

Reid met his eyes and sighed. "Yeah. Different circumstances but he reminds me of myself in high school for some reason." He looked down as they started to walk again. "I told him about the…flagpole…"

Morgan raised an eyebrow, shocked. Before Reid had told him a few years ago, he said he hadn't told anyone. He remembered how angry he was at Reid's tormentors. And his dad for not noticing how late his son got home or the bruises and scrapes that were undoubtedly covering his body. And his mom for abandoning them in the first place. It didn't surprise him that Reid was trying to help someone out that was in a similar situation, just like he tried with Owen Savage. The only difference was that Kurt was just a victim of his surroundings; he hadn't turned to violence like Savage. Morgan could tell from just the few seconds they interacted that violence wasn't in Kurt's personality. Sadly, that made him a bigger target. Hopefully, they could do something for him.

They silently made their way inside the building, finding their way to the locker room for the football team. They knew that's likely where they'd find the teen they needed to see. Reid was grateful that Morgan was with him for this. Not that he couldn't handle a bunch of teenagers, but Morgan had a more commanding presence. Eventually they found the weight room and looked for the coach.

"Hey my man," Morgan greeted one of the teens in the room. "Where's your coach?"

"She quit," the African American teen answered. Reid raised an eyebrow at the pronoun. "What you two want?"

"We're looking for Dave Karofsky," Reid answered.

The teen's eyes narrowed. "Why? Those nancy boys in the glee club get their panties in a twist or something?"

"Why is none of your concern," Morgan countered.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes and pointed towards the bench press. Then Reid felt his eyes on him. "You look like you would fit right in with those singing fairies. How'd you make it into the FBI?"

"By knowing how to actually use my brain cells," Reid snipped, not in the mood for this today. "And if you think I'm not qualified, how about I tell you how many people I've killed?"

Morgan's eyebrows shot up at that. Normally Reid hated to mention the lives he'd taken. This case was getting to him and fast. "Come on Reid, ignore him. We don't need to add to your body count today." He pulled Reid towards the person they were here to see as he shot a death glare to the teen. He was pleased to see it worked, the heavy set teen leaving quickly.

They stopped at the teen bench pressing. "Who are you?" he asked as he continued to lift.

Reid held up his badge. "I'm Dr. Reid and this is Agent Morgan. We're with the FBI. Got a couple minutes to talk?" He asked politely. He hated what this kid had done to Kurt, but he also could guess where it was coming from and couldn't completely hate him. Karofsky stopped, putting the bar back into its place. "Privately," Reid added.

The profilers watched the flashes of confusion and panic cross his face before his slipped his tough guy mask back on. "I don't have to talk to you guys if I don't want to." Karofsky sat up, grabbing his towel and wiping off his sweat. He glared at Reid, "Particularly _privately_...sounds like you just want to hit on me, you perv."

He pushed past them and was out the door fast. The agents exchanged a glance and went after him. Reid spoke loudly down the empty hall after him. "Look, you can talk to us here without involving your parents..."

That got a violent reaction out of the teen, much like he had to Blaine earlier in the day. He spun around and went to grab Reid by his wool jacket. "Or what?" He threatened.

Morgan was quick to pull him off of Reid, although he was impressed by how composed his coworker was even though he was quiet right now. "Or I can arrest you right now for assaulting a federal officer and we can haul you in and call your parents," Morgan countered.

"And tell them what exactly? What have you heard?" Karofsky's voice was still raised, but the profilers could hear the fear in it.

From behind him, Reid could see Kurt peering out of the choir room doorway, his eyes wide with panic. The agent knew what he was afraid of. "All we've heard is that you seem to have it out for the glee club. So when other teens in the area that like to sing and dance have been murdered, you can see why you'd be of interest." He knew that wasn't completely true, but it was close enough. They couldn't reveal the questions about his sexuality unless absolutely necessary. That would put Kurt in danger.

The teen seemed to relax a little at that. "So because I pick on a bunch of losers that think they'll actually make a living singing show tunes and wearing tights, I'm a murder suspect? Get real!" He moved to turn around and Reid found himself quickly running around to block the view of Kurt. "Move Doctor Fairy!"

"Hey, what the _hell_ is going on out here? I was on the phone with Ann Coulter and couldn't hear myself think with all this caterwauling."

Kurt, from his hidden spot in the doorway, registered the distinct tone from Coach Sylvester coming around the corner. Well this was going to get interesting.

"Nothing Coach," Karofsky stated, almost sounding a little scared. Apparently, she even got to him. That was when Kurt registered the stiff stance of Dr. Reid. Odd. He shot a quick glance at Coach and noticed she seemed to have paled some too once she took in the scene in the hallway. What?

"We apologize for the disturbance," Morgan commented. Then his eyes went to his partner, registering the panic in his eyes. He too had noticed the stance change. "Reid, you okay?"

Reid swallowed and slowly turned around. When his shocked brown eyes met the blue ones that he hadn't seen for almost twenty years, his breathing started to increase.

Kurt had never seen Coach strike fear into someone like this before. Which was saying something because he'd seen several Cheerios just about lose their minds when he was on the squad last year. Just as he was about to reach out to the man that had befriended him, the agent spoke.

"Mom?"

* * *

"I'm not sure how this will help, its been weeks since we were here," Blaine commented to Agent Prentiss.

She smiled and nodded. "I know, but you'd be surprised what your brain can recall given the right circumstances." She'd convinced the teen to go back to the music store he went to with Marcus to see if he could recall anything else. "Now, where did you spend most of your time in the store?"

Blaine looked around and found the section with the Top 40 music.

* * *

All five occupants of the hallway were silent after Reid murmured that one syllable word. The teen hidden in the doorway couldn't stop his eyes from growing wide in surprise, his head snapping to take in the woman in the hall in her yellow and black tracksuit. He'd never seen that look on her face before. It only lasted a second, however. Then she looked normal...it was like a mask slipped back into place.

It made Kurt question everything he knew about Sue Sylvester.

"Hate to break it to you Kid, but I don't have any children." Her eyes flickered to Morgan. "Keep it down before I call the cops."

"Since we're the FBI that won't really work," Reid countered, narrowing his eyes. He took a step towards her, studying her face closely. "Miss..."

"Call me Coach," she stated, not wanting to give her name. She knew he'd place it.

Reid turned to Morgan and Karofsky. "What's Coach's name, David?"

The burley teen was so confused as to what was going on but if it kept him out of trouble and away from the topic he didn't want to touch... "Sue Sylvester."

Morgan saw the flicker of recognition in Reid's eyes immediately. "Reid?"

The younger agent turned back to...

The hallway was empty.

"You got him?"

Morgan nodded even though Reid couldn't see it. "Yeah, go."

Reid was quickly down another hallway, but couldn't find her. Remembering the layout of the school, he took a few turns and found that office he'd seen, but was empty too. Frustrated, he slammed a fist into a locker and then leaned against the metal. He closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. Had he really just run into his mother in a high school in Ohio? And she was a coach? This didn't make any sense.

The loud ringing of his cell phone broke him of his trance. "Reid." His voice was lacking all emotion and full of emotion at the same time.

"... _Reid? You okay?"_

The agent blinked at Garcia's unusual greeting. Clearly she was thrown off by his. He needed to deflect, fast. "Did you find something?"

He could almost hear the glare from Garcia through the phone at his subject change. _"I found evidence to support that your Karofsky kid was out of the area at a football game when the first victim was killed. Video evidence places him on the field during our time of death window."_

"Thanks Garcia."

" _Of course Sweet cheeks. Now will you tell me what has the good Doctor sounding like someone just killed Spock?"_

He couldn't stop the small smile that crossed his face at that. She always knew how to make him feel a little better. "Um, can you research a Sue Sylvester for me? It's not case related, but I'd appreciate what you can find out."

" _O...Kay..."_

"Thanks Garcia." He hung up before she could say anything else. Sighing, he headed back towards where Morgan was. He found him leaning in the doorway of the choir room without Karofsky. He was watching Kurt and the other glee boys rehearse their number.

"Garcia found an alibi for Karofsky," he stated softly.

Morgan turned to him and nodded. "Yeah, I figured that out pretty quickly myself. Kid needs to figure himself out, but he's not violent."

"Tell that to Kurt," Reid mumbled.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at his friend. "You find her?" Reid shook his head. "Was that really your mom? I thought her name was Diana."

"It was her."

They watched the teens finish up. Kurt was immediately by them when it finished. "Is Miss Sylvester really your mom that abandoned you as a kid?" He asked quietly. Morgan's eyebrows shot up again after hearing more of what Reid had shared with the teen. How much of his life story had he shared with the Ohio native?

Reid sighed. "I know that face, so yes. What can you tell me about her? Is she the football coach that quit?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, she's the cheerleading coach."

"She's a bitch."

The agents turned to the voice that spoke. Reid wasn't surprised that it was Puck.

"Noah," Kurt hissed.

"What, you're talking about Coach Sylvester right? She is one and that's saying something coming from a badass like me." He met Reid's eyes. "Why? She scare you, Agent String Bean?"

Morgan glared at the teen, making a move, but Reid held him back. "You really want me to look into your criminal record, don't you?" He could handle this teen, but apparently couldn't handle the in the locker room earlier. Puck swallowed a little and shut up. Maybe it was because Reid could actually see the good in Puck.

"I hate to say it Kurt, but Puck's not wrong," commented Artie as he wheeled over. "Coach Sylvester has done anything she can to destroy this club and is constantly belittling us." He met the agents' eyes. "She's wacko."

Kurt's glance flickered from his friends to the young agent. "She has her moments..."

"Seriously Dude, you can't be defending her," Finn countered.

"Don't call me dude," Kurt glared. "And yes, okay? She let Becky join the squad, giving her purpose."

Reid sighed. "Kurt, it's fine. This isn't necessary. It's also not why we're here anyway." He was forcing himself to compartmentalize. He'd slowly gotten better at it over the years.

Sam tilted his head. "Why are we talking about Coach Sylvester anyway?"

Morgan and Kurt both looked at Reid. His best friend chose to comment for him. "She interrupted us talking with someone, that's all."

"Any leads on the case?" Mike asked, glancing at Kurt.

"We're working on it," Reid commented, shooting a small glance at Morgan before meeting Kurt's eyes. He shook his head a fraction and noticed Kurt nod the same amount to show he understood. "Stick together."

Puck slung his arm around Kurt's shoulder, the shorter teen rolling his eyes. "Don't worry, we'll take care of Lady Hummel here."

Reid glared at the mohawked teen, but Morgan beat him to it. "Is Kurt okay with that nickname? It's pretty derogatory." Maybe I should check that Reid's okay with Pretty Boy...

Kurt smiled a little at the comment, appreciating what the agent was trying to accomplish. "I tolerate it from Noah." He paused. "And Santana."

"You shouldn't have to," Reid countered.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, "And what does Agent Morgan call you that you don't like?"

Morgan ducked his head a little, surprised when he heard a small chuckle escape his friend. "Touché." He looked up to see Kurt waiting. "And I'm not telling you...at least not with an audience." Reid looked at Morgan. "At least it's nothing like what you and Garcia call each other."

Morgan was relieved to see a small smile on Reid's face. He could tell it didn't quite reach his eyes; that he was trying to process the brief appearance of his mother, but he was grateful to see he wasn't losing it. Yet. "Yeah, well no one can complete with Baby Girl and myself." He turned back to the teens. "Nice song, by the way. We'll be in touch."

Kurt smiled a fraction. "Thanks." He met Reid's eyes and held the gaze for a bit. However, he couldn't seem to come up with the words to show his gratitude. Offering to help him with Coach Sylvester just seemed inappropriate as well.

The agent nodded and waved, exiting the room silently. Morgan nodded as well and followed him. Kurt watched them go for a second before feeling the stares from the rest of his teammates. "What?"

"You okay?" Sam asked.

Kurt smiled a little. He appreciated how the new kid seemed to care...more than some of the others it seemed, including the one that could be his step brother someday. Or, at least, he showed that he cared. "I'm fine Sam."

"You sure? You totally skipped fifth and sixth period," Mike followed up Sam's question.

Kurt nodded. _Other than getting assaulted by Karofsky, pissed at Blaine for trying to help, oh and worried a serial killer might come after me, I'm peachy._ "Really." When none of them looked convinced, he deflected. "Let's run through the number again."

* * *

Emily watched Blaine carefully as he seemed to get himself back into the mindset of his last visit at the music shop. So far he hadn't recalled anything useful, but she was impressed with how well he was doing with his cognitive interview.

"...and then Marcus and David stayed over here while I checked out some of the music books for the guitar." Blaine blinked, opening his eyes and walked over to that area of the store while the agent followed him.

"Did anyone approach you?"

"No."

"Could you see Marcus and David across the store?" Blaine nodded. "Did you notice anyone talking to them?"

Blaine thought it over, closing his eyes again. "I think a blond...no a redhead girl approached David." He wrinkled his nose. "He tried to flirt a little even though he has a girlfriend. Thankfully his game is lacking some."

Emily chuckled quietly. "Did you notice anyone watching them?"

Blaine kept his eyes closed and took a deep breath, trying to remember the store that day. He looked around in his memory, seeing an older gentleman checking out at the register. Turning his head at the sound of the bell tied to the door, he saw a figure heading out of the store. He watched as they walked over to a red pick up truck and he felt the air suck out of his lungs. It couldn't be...could it?

"Blaine?"

The teen blinked and looked up at the female agent, slipping his mask back in place. "Nope, no one watching them that I could see."

Emily tilted her head just a fraction, studying him. "Are you sure?" Blaine nodded. "And you didn't recognize anyone in the store?"

Blaine hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking his head. "Nope, sorry." Technically he wasn't in the store. And was it even really him?

"...Okay, well let's get you back to Dalton." Blaine nodded and headed out the door, his head swimming. Emily sighed as she watched him go. She was going to follow him back to the school before stopping back at the other high school in Westerville. She had a feeling the well mannered teen was holding something back, but she wasn't sure if it was case relevant or not. Was he not really as squeaky clean as he seemed?

* * *

Sue quickly slammed the door to her house, leaning back against it. She tried to control her breathing that had been getting increasingly more ragged as soon as that dumb ham hock of a football player muttered her name. She knew her son was going to see right through that name, and she couldn't handle it. She couldn't handle him shattering this life she'd built. For him to see her as the tormentor to many a Titan; the same thing that broke her heart for him and drove her away. How could she avoid him until the FBI left town? And _why_ in the world was he an FBI agent?

Why did he have to stare at her with those same soft brown eyes he had when he was ten years old?

The normally stoic woman slid down to the floor, tears falling from her blue eyes.

Funny, she couldn't even recall the last time she cried.

Was it when she left her son back in Vegas?

Why did he always bring her pain?

Or did she do that to _him_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. I’ve had this one done for awhile but have been staring at chapter 5 for a looooooong time with some kinda of block/lack of motivation. I’m hoping some feedback/love will movitate me to keep moving. Hope you enjoyed this update!


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, seven months since an update. So sorry folks. Real life drama combined with some bad writers block are apparently not conducive for my creativity. But, I do promise to finish this story! Thanks to those that have left comments periodically to encourage me to post, it has helped! I really hope to keep the updates coming more frequently from now on!
> 
> So quick recap in “When the Past Resurfaces” —
> 
> The BAU has been dispatched to Ohio, chasing a serial killer targeting young, gay men around the Westerville/Lima area. They believe he’s around the same age and struggling with his own sexual orientation. All the victims seem to have singing/performing also in common, which brought the team’s attention to Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson (and a few other Warblers) as possible targets. Dave Karofsky was considered a possible suspect for a while after Kurt revealed to both Blaine and Agent Reid that he was assaulted by the bully, but he was found to have an alibi.
> 
> While confronting Karofsky, Coach Sylvester interrupted Reid and Agent Morgan only to be confronted herself with her son, Spencer Reid, that she had abandoned 19 years ago in Las Vegas before assuming her new identity. She fled the scene before Reid could question his long lost mother.
> 
> Oh, and Agent Prentiss conducted a cognitive interview with Blaine at Between the Sheets. She noticed he seemed to trigger something in the interview but held it from her. The question is what was it and is it relevant to the case or not?
> 
> And that’s what you missed on “When the Past Resurfaces!” Okay, let’s get back at it!

* * *

* * *

Reid had never been more grateful that he had to drive back to the station in a separate vehicle than he was that evening leaving McKinley High. It spared him from having Morgan either question him about his mom or just keep shooting glances at him waiting for answers. He didn’t have any. All he had were his own questions.

What was his mom doing in Ohio of all places? And a cheerleading coach? He knew the hard work that went into becoming a college professor and to see that she’d tossed her career out just confused him. He had often wondered about where she had gone, but this is not what he’d ever expect.

Which was probably how she wanted it. 

* * *

_Las Vegas - 1991_

_Spencer stretched and yawned, waking up on Saturday morning to the sun shining brightly. He had checked the weather forecast in the paper last night and was hopeful he’d convince his mom and dad to go to the park so he could play chess._

_He reached over to his bedside table and snatched his dark framed glasses, sliding them into place before climbing out of bed and heading towards the kitchen. When he came out of the hallway to walk past the dining room to get to the kitchen, he found his dad sitting at the table, staring at a note, not the newspaper he’d usually see him reading._

_“Dad?”_

_William Reid seemed to startle out of his revere and meet his son’s gaze. “Sp-encer…” His voice cracked little in his greeting._

_The ten year old furrowed his brow, confused by his dad’s tone. He glanced around, surprised his mom wasn’t sitting with him. She usually read the paper with Dad on Saturday morning, discussing current events before they let him join in. “Where’s Mom?”_

_William sighed and gestured to the seat next to him. “Come sit down, son.”_

_The young boy felt his anxiety rising as he padded over on his matching socks and took a seat. “Dad? What’s going on?”_

_“Your mom...she’s left us, Spencer.”_

_“Wh—what? No!” The young boy ran to his room, throwing himself onto his bed, the tears already streaming down his face. He was so confused. She couldn’t have left. She loved him! Why would she just leave? Did he do something to make her do it? Did she not love him after all?_

* * *

Feeling the tears starting to surface, he pulled over before he completely broke down. Now he was even more grateful that Morgan had also left first so he hadn’t seen him pull over. He’d tried for so many years to work through those feelings of abandonment, with limited success. His dad had tried to talk to him about the note, about how it was _her_ , not either of them, that caused her to leave. Eventually, he was brave enough to read it on his own - about how she felt like a failure as a parent, not being able to protect him, and she couldn’t stay to and continue to watch things become worse. Despite seeing it in her own handwriting, in her own words, Reid couldn’t ever fully believe that.

Deep in his heart he knew it was his fault somehow.

 _That_ was what he eventually admitted to with Tobias Hankel.

Reid let out a shaky breath as he felt a sudden urge hit him again. All he wanted to do right now was bury all this pain that was coming back to the surface, something the addiction he had gained from his time in the woods with Hankel. Years of sobriety be damned as he started to run through what he knew about the area, thinking about a place to find a supply of dilaudid when his phone rang, starling him.

Quickly wiping his eyes and trying to push those dark thoughts aside, he glanced at the caller ID.

“JJ?”

_“Hey Spence.”_

“Wh—what’s up? Is everything okay with you? With Henry?” The best friends hadn’t had a chance to speak much since the media liaison’s abrupt departure about a month ago, making the young genius panic about the call.

_“We’re fine, Spence. How are you?”_

Reid sighed. “Which one called you?”

JJ sighed herself, _“Morgan. Who else knows that you just saw your mother?”_

“No one on the team. But I did have Garcia look into her new identity.” He swallowed, thinking about how different she looked during those brief seconds. Hard. Mean.

 Cold.

_“Spence? Talk to me...please. What are you thinking?”_

He felt new tears building, this time out of gratitude. “I...I just don’t know what I’m thinking, to be honest. Part of me wants to know everything. Why Ohio? Why as a high school cheerleading coach? Why…”

 _“Why did she leave?”_ JJ supplied when he trailed off. _“Why, if she loved you, could she do that?”_ A small sob escaped his mouth. _“Oh Spence…god I wish I was there right now.”_

“Me too,” he whispered, feeling the tears sliding down his cheeks. He often found he could only be really vulnerable with JJ, maybe Garcia. Sure he could talk about some things with Morgan like when his anger was eating him up, but his dad had raised him to be strong, tough, after his mom had left. So he tried to be that...at least with the guys on the team. But his true nature was always softer and the women on the team knew and accepted that. JJ, in particular, embraced that side of him and quickly became his shoulder to lean on when things were too much. Maybe that’s why the teenager in Lima seemed to make it easy to open up? It wasn’t just because he could - _would_ \- help Kurt, but that he felt like he could show that side without repercussions?

JJ didn’t say anything for a minute, just letting him cry and get some of his emotions out. Finally, he spoke again. “What...what if she says she didn’t want me?” That was the part of him that _didn’t_ want to talk to her, terrified of the answers to his burning questions.

 _“Then you take a deep breath and focus on the people in your life that_ do _want you. Like your dad. The team. Henry.”_ There was a slight pause. _“Me.”_

Reid felt a small smile on his lips at that.

_“She doesn’t define who you are, Spence. Sure, her decision to leave changed some of your development, changed aspects of your childhood, but the essence of who you are in your core isn’t going to change no matter what answers you do or don’t get from her.”_

Reid let out a deep breath, his head hitting the back of the head rest. “They teach you motivational speaking over there?”

JJ chuckled, albeit a little strained. If he hadn’t been so emotionally drained, he might have questioned that further. _“No, I just have years of practice of getting you to listen to my wisdom. I may not be a genius like some people…”_

“You’re a genius to me, JJ,” Reid countered.

He could hear the smile on her lips. _“Thanks Spence.”_ They were silent for a second. _“Listen, I’ve to go to run, but are you going to be okay?”_

Reid sighed again, “I...I think so. Thanks for calling.”

_“Of course. Brunch soon? Henry will want to see you and I need to give you a hug.”_

That got a smile from the profiler. “Sounds good.” After they disconnected the call, he took a few more breaths before checking the road and pulling back into traffic to finish the drive.

He wouldn’t let what he learned - or didn’t learn - from his mother change who he was. Hopefully it would at least provide some closure. For him and…

Reid’s eyes widened as he remembered a call he _needed_ to make.

Dad.

* * *

Emily slipped out of her driver’s seat, biting down the smile that wanted to break free when she spotted Blaine waiting for her. His prep school charisma took her back to her teenage years, of alluring guys wanting to ‘charm’ their way into her life and her just wanting acceptance. She knew Blaine was nothing like those boys for obvious reasons, but it hit her as a memory nonetheless.

She studied him for a moment while he was looking down at his pocket watch, wondering if maybe there wasn’t more of herself that she saw instead. This need to be accepted - _loved_ \- by everyone because he wasn’t getting it at home. Maybe some of his persona was really just a projection, an attempt to be _liked_ for _who_ he was. But then was that _really_ who he was? A master of compartmentalization, of wearing masks herself, she was worried. As he turned to her and a small smile formed, she could see that she likely _was_ looking at a younger version of herself instead. Unlike his peers, _she_ didn’t miss the fear in his eyes before it was buried deep, tucked away, just like she could do so well. Sighing, she pondered what caused this change. Now that his mask has slipped, the cracks were far more obvious to her. Something happened at the record store, that much she knew.

“Thank you for escorting me back, Agent Prentiss,” Blaine stated. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of much help.”

Emily shook her head and sent him a smile. “That’s not completely true, Blaine. Dr. Reid might not have gotten anything out of Kurt without you.” Blaine nodded, looking down again.

“Do you think his bully is really a killer?” he finally asked, meeting her eyes once more. She could see the fear again, although this seemed different than before.

“It’s hard to say right now, but we are very good at what we do. We’ll catch whomever it is. If it’s not a McKinley High student, well, I think Reid is going to make sure something changes over there so we’ll be helping Kurt that way too.” She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “You did good today.”

Blaine reached up and scratched the back of this neck, “Thanks.” Emily noticed the tightness in his smile as she dropped her hand. _What_ was he hiding?

“Blaine!”

The pair turned to see Wes and Jeff approaching. “I should get back,” the sixteen year old stated and Emily nodded. “You’ll, ah, keep me informed?”

Emily nodded. “We will.” Blaine turned to walk away. “And Blaine?”

The teen turned back and she could see the nerves again. “Yes?”

“I know that Dr. Reid extended this to Kurt already, but if you ever just want to talk - to him or me - we’ll make time okay?”

Blaine bit his lip and nodded, taking a step backwards and distancing himself from her. “Okay. Thanks.”

She nodded in acknowledgment and then let him turn to meet his friends. She smiled a little as she could tell Wes was lecturing him a bit while Jeff just hugged him. Yet she could still see a little stiffness in his posture. Something got jogged loose in that cognitive interview with her, but she wasn’t quite sure if it was relevant to the case or just a bad memory. Everyone is entitled to bad memories - god knows her baggage was quite large - so if that was the case, it wouldn’t be right for her to go digging. And he had been very helpful and open when it seemed to be about the murders. She sighed once more as she watched the blue blazers disappear into the building, trying to decide what to do. 

* * *

After getting to his hotel room that night, Reid let out a deep breath as he heard the ringing, almost praying the phone went to voicemail. Even after his mother had left, his relationship with his father had never really been what he’d call close. William Reid had focused on providing for Spencer in the monetary sense - a place to sleep, food on the table, and all his schooling needs met, which weren’t small given his genius IQ and desire to learn. He even saved money to find and fund his living expenses with a host family for the young teen when he went off to college at age 12. But the emotional bond he had with his mother was never quite there with his father. Even with Gideon’s abrupt departure and the pain that brought, Reid had a deeper connection to the senior agent than with his own flesh and blood. Which was probably why that departure _did_ leave such an emotional scar on the young man.

So to say he wanted to have an emotional conversation with William Reid would be a lie.

 _“Spencer, hello,”_ his father greeted.

Reid sighed, “Hi Dad.”

 _“How are you? Are you headed to Vegas for work? I haven’t heard about anything that would require the BAU’s presence…”_ The FBI agent _did_ make an effort to at least have coffee or a meal with his dad whenever they ended up in Sin City for work, but that was the really only reason he visited his father.

“No, no. I, uh…”

_“Spencer? Are you okay?”_

A small smile slipped across his features. Even if they relationship wasn’t as emotionally connected as he’d like, at least he always knew his dad did care. Which was more than he could say for his mother at the moment.

Reid cleared his throat. “I’m okay...I think. I’m, uh, in Ohio for a case and I…”

There was a pause again. How did he tell his father that he thought - no, _knew_ \- he saw his mother - his father’s _wife_ \- in a high school in Lima, Ohio of all places?

_“Son?”_

“I saw Mom.”

Another pause. Reid could hear him breathing through the phone connection, which relieved him to know that he hadn’t caused him to pass out at least.

“Dad?”

_“You saw your mother?”_

“Yes.”

_“Wh—what did she say?”_

Reid sighed, running his hand through his hair, suddenly wishing it was in one of its longer forms. “Well, we didn’t talk much. She’s using a different name and denied that it was her, but…”

_“Maybe it wasn’t?”_

Reid hated the hopeful sound in his dad’s voice at that question. “I think I would recognize my own mother, Dad. Her hair was shorter and she was wearing a tracksuit, but I know those eyes. I couldn’t forget them, even if I tried.”

William sighed. _“Okay, but if she denied it was her maybe it’s best to just pretend th—“_

“That what? She’s not the woman that abandoned us 19 years ago?” The pair were quiet for a moment before he followed up with another question. “Don’t you want answers?” _Don’t you want to hear once and for all that it was my fault?_

 _“Look son, I…”_ the older Reid seemed to pause and collect his thoughts. _“I made peace with her leaving years ago. But if you need to talk to her, then I’ll support you. I’ll even come out there if you need me to, but I don’t need to see or talk that woman again for my sake.”_

Reid rubbed his eyes as he processed that. Had he really expected his dad to want to see the woman that left him alone with a ‘gifted’ kid? A kid he really never understood in the first place? “Okay. I don’t think I need you here, but, uh, thanks.”

 _“Sure.”_ Another pregnant pause filled the air between father and son. _“Did you need anything else?”_

Reid sighed. “No. Good night, Dad.”

_“Good night, son.”_

Reid stared at his phone after hanging up.

 _Did_ he really want to talk to her? 

* * *

Kurt sat at his vanity as he did his nightly moisturizing routine, his thoughts running wild. He still was having a hard time processing that Karofsky was gay, or at least questioning, and _that_ was why he’d been tormenting the singer so much more than the rest of the glee club. It reminded him of the old playground rule that if a boy pulled on a girl’s hair, it meant he liked her.

He couldn’t help the snort that left him as he rolled his eyes. “Figures…” he mumbled to himself. The first guy to seemly find him attractive was also his biggest nightmare. His hand seemed to subconsciously touch his lips as he held his own gaze, thinking about his stolen first kiss.

“It doesn’t count, you were assaulted like Dr. Reid said,” he said to himself, trying to make himself feel better. But, saying the word _assault_ seemed to bring back that feeling of fear and disgust instead of comforting him. Would anyone ever _want_ to be with him now that Karofsky tainted him?

“Kurt?”

The teen blinked rapidly and looked up to see his Dad’s reflection in his mirror. “Dad, don’t you knock?” he asked, slightly agitated for getting caught off guard. He dabbed a kleenex by his eyes, trying to play it off as part of his routine and not tears starting to form, before turning to face his father.

Burt frowned, not as oblivious as his son would like him to be. “I did, twice.”

Kurt nodded, trying to play it off. “Oh, sorry. I was running through our number tomorrow in my head and must have not heard you.” The pair held eye contact for a moment; each aware of the lie but neither seeming to want to address it completely. “Did you need something?”

The burly man nodded, taking his hat off and rubbing his head a bit before taking a seat on the lounge in the room. “Finn mentioned to me that the FBI had been by to talk to you glee kids about the murders in the area.” He let that hang in the air for a minute and for a second Kurt thought he was going to have to kill Finn for telling his dad about skipping classes too. “And I guess I was just wondering why _you_ didn’t. He seemed worried about you.”

Kurt sighed, grateful that Finn at least didn’t spill everything to his father. “I’m fine, first of all. I guess I didn’t tell you because…” _Because I’m so close to spilling everything to you and I can’t put you through that._ “I didn’t want to unnecessarily worry you. Not with your heart.”

Burt nodded, figuring it was something like that. Ever since he was little, Kurt had always tried to hide bad things from him like he was worried it would break him. It was a trait he both loved and hated in his son. He cared so much, just like his mother, but he seemed hell bent on carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders alone, just like Burt. It was a dangerous combination. The teen needed to learn to lean on someone, even if it wasn’t his father, or the pressure would make him break at some point.

“Listen Kiddo, I know you are worried about me, but I’m getting stronger everyday, okay? And for as much as you worry about me? I worry about you times one hundred, cause guess what?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, having heard this before. Still, a small smile slipped onto his face as he answered. “It’s your job.”

Burt smiled, “That’s right. I’m the father here, in case you forgot. So when things are going on, I need to know about them. ‘Cause I hate to break it to ya, but I’m gonna worry about you anyway and my heart will do better if I know what’s going on instead of getting surprised, you got it?” Kurt nodded. “Good. Now, Finn mentioned an Agent, Red or something, wanted to talk to you specifically? Why?”

Kurt took a second, deciding how much to tell him. He still wanted to keep the Karofsky part to himself, if he could. “Agent - well technically Doctor - Reid, not Red. And he wanted to talk to me because the killer seems to be targeting teenagers like me.”

Burt frowned. “Like you how? Gay?”

Kurt sighed, dropping his gaze as he thought about all the pain his sexual orientation had not only brought him but his dad as well. This was just one more thing. “Yeah.” He looked up, trying to play off how serious this was. “Apparently I’m not actually the only out gay kid in the area like I thought.”

That didn’t get the chuckle from his dad. In fact it only made Burt frown further, his thoughts from a few days ago coming back to him. “I think you and Finn should start going to school together...maybe hang out more after school if you’re going anywhere besides home.”

Kurt immediately shook his head. “No. I’m not going to cower behind Finn because some psycho is out to rid Ohio of gay teenagers!”

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” Burt countered, his voice rising some.

“I know!” Kurt exclaimed back and then sighed. “Look, if I promise to always be with _someone_ when I go places, will that work? It...it’s just not practical to have it be Finn all the time anyway.” _I’m pretty sure he would hate that anyway_. “What if I need to get something from the store and he’s in football practice?”

Burt seemed to ponder that for a moment. “You’ll text me and let me know where you’re going and with who.”

“Whom,” Kurt corrected. “But yes. I promise.”

Burt ignored the grammar lesson. “And you’ll let me know when you’re headed home too so I know.” Kurt nodded. “And if I’m not home, you’ll let me know you got here safely, understood?”

Kurt rolled his eyes a little. “Should I text you when I go to the bathroom too?”

“Kurt.” The teen met his father’s eyes, seeing the concern in them and let his attitude drop some. “You know this is just temporary; you’re not on permanent lock down, so cut the sarcasm down.”

The young Hummel nodded, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just…” He picked a piece of lint off his pajamas. “I just hate this. Like I need _one_ more reason to feel different.”

Burt wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “I know.” He reached out and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Get some rest, okay?”

Kurt offered him a small smile. With everything that sucked in his life right now, he sure as thankful for his father. “I will. Good night Dad.”

Burt smiled as he stood up, heading towards the stairs. “Night Kiddo.”

* * *

Wes shuffled around quietly in his bed, uncertain what had woken him up. Sighing, he glanced at his night stand to eyeball the alarm clock. 12:05 am. He’d only been asleep for a little over an hour. So what work him up?

“No...”

The senior Warbler blinked, now registering _why_. His glee club lead was talking in his sleep and it worried him greatly. Last year, when Blaine had transferred mid-year, Wes was the odd student with a spare bunk in his room so they had become roommates. Because of that, he was the one that witnessed up close the then-freshman transform from the slightly shy, jumpy teen to the confident leading man he was now as a sophomore. He was also one of the few people that knew some of the details around why Blaine transferred and why he was a little skittish when he first came to Dalton.

“Please…”

Wes frowned and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. The fact that Blaine was talking in his sleep likely meant his was having _that_ dream - nightmare - again.

He stood up and shuffled over to Blaine’s bed, noting the furrowed brow as his friend tossed and turned. He gently shook the younger teen’s shoulder. “Blaine, wake up buddy.”

Honey eyes blinked after a few seconds and Wes sighed at the brief flash of fear he saw. “We—Wes?”

The Asian teen nodded with a sigh. “You were talking in your sleep.” He paused, debating on saying the next part. “And it didn’t sound pleasant.” Blaine sighed and ran a hand through his curly mass of hair, wet from sweat. He stared at the ceiling of their dorm room, not wanting to meet his friend’s gaze. Wes decided to push once more, “Want to talk about it?”

Biting his lip, Blaine shook his head. He should be over this by now, right? And that wasn’t who he saw at the music store when talking with Agent Prentiss anyway...right?

 ... _right_?

“No, I’m good. Bad dream, but I’ll be okay,” he sighed and then tried to offer a smile to the older teen. “Sorry for waking you.”

Wes frowned as Blaine rolled away from him. “It’s cool.” Climbing back into his bed, he paused for a moment again. “You know, you can still talk to me about things, right?”

Blaine turned and met Wes’ eyes in the dark room, nodding. “I do.”

Wes nodded, satisfied for now, and settled himself back into his bed. He missed Blaine taking a deep breath.

The curly haired teen continued to take a few deep breaths, trying to push away those feelings his nightmare had stirred back up, while also trying to let his roommate and friend fall back asleep.

He _couldn’t_ let that affect him anymore. He _needed_ to be strong.

His last thought before succumbing to sleep once more was as a simple mantra.

_Strong for Kurt._

* * *

He shoved his hands further into his jeans pockets as he quickly walked back to his red truck and slammed the door shut. He could feel his adrenaline running through his veins, making him feel alive. His hands were shaking with so much energy that he had to look down at them, trying to will them to calm down so he could drive away from the scene. He smiled a little at the sight of the blood still there. There was one less queer out there now to spread their disease to the rest of them.

To him.

_It’s a little to late for that, don’t you think?_

The young man pounded his hands into the steering wheel in frustration at that last thought. The critical voice in his head sounded a lot like his father even if he didn’t fully realize it.

_No! I’m not a faggot like the rest of them!_

_Oh yeah? Then why did you blush when this last one commented on your eyes at Foot Locker tonight?_

_I did not! He was disgusting!_

_Just like you!_

_No!_

_Just like that kid from your school. The one you were too weak to take care of the first time. The one that started all of this mess. The one you_ like _, you sick pervert._

Another scream of anger left the graduate from Westerville High. He would have to take out Anderson once and for all. Then maybe all this would go away...right?

_Right._


End file.
